A Nail Love Story
by Bucky
Summary: (Complete) The weight of repopulating his race rested on young Guru's shoulders. Solitary and afraid, he set up a system that could work. But then she came. His alpha son fell in love. Piccolo in pt. 2.
1. Default Chapter

**A/N: A TREMENDOUS thank you to Devon Aster (another one of the select few whose writing makes me feel like a rookie! I don't plug for favors, so take me seriously when I say to read Even the Blessed by Devon Aster. It's incredible) for taking so much time to school me on Namekian lore/background. **

SETTING : READ THIS! The PROLOGUE takes place DURING the disaster that wiped out all the Nameks except GURU, and is told from his point of view. The rest of the fic will take place in DBZ time frame, and will be my usual love story/drama. Cool?

And to orientate you on the DB family tree, the 'Piccolo' mentioned below is not our DBZ Piccolo. It is the person Kami was before he split into two people. In short, Katatsu had a son named Piccolo. Piccolo went to earth and decided he wanted to be guardian. To do that, he purged himself of evil, enabling his good half to become Kami, and his bad half to become the Demon King Piccolo, who later gave birth to DBZ Piccolo. So. THAT SAID…. (btw - it's personal preference to use the translated English names/terms, since I figure that's what most readers are familiar with…)

And finally, Sab and Nak (piccolosfire and namek kaia). This one's for you.

* * *

PROLOGUE

"Nnngh…!"

Guru bit back a snarl as the medic did the biopsy of his heart. Far too big for any operating table, they laid him on the floor with a handful of brethren pinning his limbs down. The probing instrument hurt, but he would sit through the pain a hundred times over if it meant finding a cure for the virus that was sweeping across Namek, killing their people.

The genetic anomaly that caused his gigantism had somehow protected him against the minute, but deadly organism, enabling him to walk out of a village where the great Katatsu himself, patriarch of the Dragon Clan, had fallen victim to the organ-dissolving disease. With their leader's death, the dragonballs were rendered useless, and now, just two days later, only a smattering of nameks, still lived.

It was that quick, and that deadly.

His arms spasmed on reflex, tossing two of the brethren across the room. Fortunately, the medic had just extracted the sampling of his tissue, and he exhaled a shuddering breath.

"Done," she breathed, the light reflecting off the sweaty sheen of her smooth, green scalp. "Heal him, Rin."

Guru's sister, his only living relative, shouldered her way through the desperate on-lookers, and knelt by his side. With a quick, worried glance at his eyes, she placed her hands on his chest. No sooner had the aura surrounded her frame than he felt the hole in his heart close up. Guru imagined he would have been grateful for the physical respite, had the pain not been a welcome distraction from the holocaust of his people.

Rin's face paled, and she swooned. He sat up and braced her, his one, massive hand encompassing the whole of her back. She gave him a weary, forced smile. "It takes a little more to heal you than others, brother."

He observed how tiny she was compared to him, and winced. "I would have kept the pain-"

She held a hand up, and looked at him sternly. "If they can single out the cause of your mutation, and adapt it to a serum for the rest of us, then I'd spend the remainder of my days keeping your mighty ass young, Guru."

He smiled ruefully, understanding in no uncertain terms the grave importance of his immunity to the virus. If only they'd seen it coming, he could have been studied sooner… As it was, the few survivors were weary and traumatized, and almost insane with anxiety - he and Rin included. Looking at the tension in the medic's shoulders as she worked over a counter, or the red-veined sleepless eyes of the brethren in the room only reinforced the overwhelming sentiment of fear. Of terror…

Suddenly, the quick patter of footsteps, and rasping of breath perked his ears. He tensed as one of the brethren burst into the room, a frenzied look on his face.

"It…it hit the warrior clan…in the valley below," he panted desperately. "It's… coming…"

As though on some twisted cue, a soul-piercing scream was heard in the distance, followed by another…and another. Rin gasped and clutched at Guru in blind panic, burying her face in his vest. The others in the room sprang to life, scuttling into each other, weeping…

Images of the quick but violent deaths Guru had already witnessed flitted in brutal detail across his mind, and he looked down at his frail, sweet sister. She was all he had left. In an irrational protective surge, he picked her up, cradling her in one arm, and smashed through the wall to the outside.

It was chaos. Nameks ran aimlessly, going anywhere and nowhere, as though the bug that rode the air currents like a wave would be partial to those sitting still.

"It's over, Guru," Rin sobbed, her tears wetting his chest. "Death has come!"

He growled, and scanned the mountaintops. His gaze fixed on the interplanetary communication tower on the nearest peak. If the disease was air born, then perhaps he could seal them inside the isolated building, in hopes that the globe's gravity would keep the virus at the lower altitude.

The wails were getting closer and he turned his head to see brethren and sisters falling to the ground like winged mammals not fifty yards away. "Hold on, Rin."

She gasped as he abruptly bolted in the opposite direction, towards the mountains. He regretted not ever learning to use his ki to fly, and had to rely instead on the intrinsic resources that Porunga had given him. His long legs carried him faster than five nameks combined, and the wind whipped and protested about him as he sliced through it. He ignored the cries behind him, focusing only on the female in his arms and his destination.

His breath became ragged as he ascended the mountain path at breakneck speed, and his lungs screamed for air. But Guru would die before he slowed.

What seemed like the longest run of his entire life was finally ended as he barreled through the tower's metal doors, sealing them shut behind him. The windows were already closed, and he set Rin's rigid form down as he went to peer out the nearest glass pane.

From up there, he could make out the tiny dots of namekians, convulsing around like poisoned insects. They were dying. All of them. He rested his forehead against the window and closed his stinging eyes. "Damn our technology," he spat, his ragged voice sounding like churning gravel to his sensitive ears. "And the exploration ship that returned with the cursed bug!"

A pained hiss made him spin around. Rin was doubled over on the floor, her eyes wide with pain and terror. "Guru…"

His stomach dropped out, and his heart sank. _Porunga, no…_ He was by her side in an instant, hovering over her like a canopy. "Rin," he gasped. "Talk to me."

She yelped as the convulsions started, her face purpling from the strain. "It…hurts, brother…"

He bit back a sob and curled her trembling form in his massive arms. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words of comfort couldn't make it past the lump in his throat. _Let me take this from her!_ he silently cried to whatever deity was listening. _I'd rather die ten deaths than to sit helpless while the virus claims her!_

She stiffened as her eyes rolled up in the back of her head.

"Don't leave me, Rin!" he choked.

For all his protest, the symptoms ruthlessly ran their course. What couldn't have been more than a few moments seemed an eternity as her shuddering finally slowed, and then stopped. Her lifeblood oozed out her ears and eyes in dark rivulets, soaking his clothes and collecting in a puddle of blood on the floor.

"_Rin_…"

Dread horror filled him, and the agony of watching his sister's death dropped one word on his consciousness like a steel anvil.

_Alone. _

Completely, totally…

…….alone…

Guru threw his head back and roared in anguish, hot tears searing his cheeks with their significance. His breath came and went in great hiccupping sobs as he collapsed over her limp body and cried until his wind pipe felt like it was going to collapse - until the macabre sensation of embracing death pushed him back.

Then he leaned to the side and retched his guts out. When the dry heaves finally stopped, he inched over to Rin's body. Shackled in the surrealism of a nightmare, he rocked back and forth next to the corpse of his sister until the three suns of Namek sank below the horizon.

* * *

.

Morbid acceptance touched his awareness at some point during the night, unexpectedly rational after so many hours of pondering suicide. He was alone, but he wasn't the only survivor. Two keepers of the Dragon Clan were sent out the day before on scouting missions to find habitable worlds in anticipation of the worst. Etrack, mentor of the tribe's warriors, and the Great Katatsu's own son, Piccolo.

And someone needed to inform them that the worst had already happened. His muscles were slow to respond as he lifted himself off the floor and shuffled to the control panel. His position in the clan had placed him in high ranking with the technological workings of their people, and he knew the systems well. Using the tips of his fingernails, he keyed in a communication to both the departing ships, and waited until the faces of his comrades appeared on the monitors above the panel.

They blipped up almost simultaneously, Piccolo and Etrack, with the same quiet reaction when they saw his haggard face.

"Don't…come back," Guru managed, his voice raw. "You'll die if you return. The virus killed them all…"

Piccolo hissed and bowed his head while Etrack wept outright. It took several seconds for the warriors to compose themselves, and when they did, it was Piccolo that spoke first.

"Guru, listen to me," he said. "You must create anew the dragonballs."

Guru frowned at the idea, and Etrack voiced why.

"But how? He was never taught," he said, sounding more dubious than argumentative.

A few moments of silence passed. "_I_ was taught," Piccolo relented.

Guru gaped. The law-breaking privileges of nepotism would have made him spit in disgust on any other day. But in the moment, the words fell like life-giving water from his lips. Piccolo continued.

"Much time remains before I reach earth, and even more so for Etrack to arrive on Rameumptum. So to spare us the agonizing wait, and for your own sanity, I'll walk you through the process so you can wish our people back."

The hope that coursed through Guru's body right then almost burned, it was so fierce. He nodded mutely, and a small relieved noise sounded from Etrack.

"Alright. This is how you begin…"

* * *

. 

"Evolution?" Guru choked, as all his earlier hopes were swallowed up in a vortex of despair. "Natural selection?" he felt his voice raise as he stared up at the massive dragon. "How can you call that malignant virus natural? It slaughtered our entire population in TWO DAYS!"

Porunga growled, but at the moment, Guru wasn't concerned with Eternal Dragon etiquette. The god had just informed him that he couldn't wish his people back, and he was near hysterics.

"It is beyond my power," Porunga said again with finality. "Choose another wish, namekian."

_Another wish…_ Guru was still reeling from the shock of not getting his first one. His beautiful people - gone. Just like that. And without namekian females it wasn't like he could take on the responsibility of fathering the race…from…_scratch_…. He blinked.

Or could he?

"Porunga!" He cried as the glint in his eye materialized into a brilliant wish. "Grant the remaining nameks the capability of asexual procreation…" He held his breath as the Eternal Dragon's eyes narrowed to slits. Then after a moment of scrutiny, the god's voice boomed an affirmative.

"It is done."

And he felt the change, alright. It was like a door unlocked in his physiology, and with it came a dim knowledge, like instinct, on how it was done. "Unbelievable…" he muttered, and wondered what Piccolo's and Etrack's reactions were to the change. Whether or not they felt it was indisputable. It was obvious.

"You have two more wishes." The dragon bellowed, somewhat impatiently.

Guru looked at the land about him, littered with the decomposing bodies of his people. Namek wreaked of death, and his spirits would never be lifted if he saw their remains at every turn, or if the threat of the virus wasn't eliminated to spare his future children. The next two wishes rang in his head with unwavering certainty.

"Alter all deadly viruses. Make them harmless to us."

"It is done."

"And bury the dead. Give them back to the planet, to strengthen it."

"It is done."

With that, brilliant lightning lanced down and scorched the earth around him as the Eternal Dragon snaked up into the sky, vanishing in a flash. The seven dragonballs he had created scattered, and he turned to see the green grass of the planet, growing lustfully as his kin's corpses dissolved into the soil, nourishing the planet with their decay.

Feeling more responsibility than he had ever felt in all his life, Guru walked gravely back to the communication tower to inform Piccolo and Etrack of what he'd wished for.

* * *

. 

A month later, after he was certain that his remorse over losing loved ones wouldn't taint his ability to nurture, Guru settled down in his new dome-shaped residence to have his first child.

His last conversation with Piccolo and Etrak led him to believe they wouldn't be coming back for a while, if ever. He hadn't realized until he saw their hesitant faces and downcast eyes that coming home to an empty planet was something neither of them were ready to face. He understood.

But he wondered if they would take to having children with the new capabilities Porunga gave them. The chances of his namekian brethren being reproductively compatible with the females of alien species was slim, and that's if they even chose to go that route.

Either way, it wasn't his concern. He informed them that he wouldn't pass on their technological advancement, remembering all too clearly that it was _just_ that which brought the virus to Namek in the first place. His children would be raised to depend on their intrinsic magics instead of machinery. It was better that way.

Taking a deep breath, Guru sat cross-legged on the floor, and tuned himself to his own body, remembering the knowledge that came with the given ability. His DNA flitted across his mind's eye, each strand in perfect detail - and with it, associated gene pools and all the heritage that had gone into his own creation.

The most astounding thing was that he had choices. Hundreds of them. From an entire genealogy of ancestors whose blood coursed through his veins, he could choose which traits to pass onto the embryo already forming in his chest.

Warrior, Healer, Nurturer, Leader… All there. And suddenly, he realized with a startling clarity that he could pass his memories onto this child. In doing so, the child would have a physically torturous maturity, but would be full grown in just a couple years. And he could use the company…not to mention the help.

Then a brief flashback of staring into his sister's lifeless, bloodied face interspersed his concentration. He grimaced. No. How dare he be so selfish. He couldn't taint his children's new existence with his agonizing past. It wasn't an option. He'd wean them from babes, all the way through the pubescent years so that they could have their own memories and experiences shape who they were.

Another choice made. He was feeling confident, and even enjoying the process so far. As he honed into the next step, the fact that he could only produce male children became clear. Naturally. But he could do so without giving them the same gigantism that he'd been born with. _Thank Porunga. _It was another thing he didn't want to taint his children with. It would have been an insult to his dead kin if he'd duplicated the mutation, as though insinuating that the original namekians had been flawed, or inferior…

He was about to pass over to the tribal affinities when something nagged at him. Re-doing his steps, it only took a moment to figure out what it was. Sex Drive. They wouldn't_ need_ it. Not only that, but the few crimes that ever took place on Namek prior to the disaster were sex related - an occasional rape, molestation, abuse…

No. He would nullify the biological urge. They would truly be a peaceful people without it.

However, upon attempting to suppress the male libido, he met resistance. Guru didn't know how long he sat there, weeding his way through the gene pool until he found a way to dampen it, but he finally succeeded. The magical restraint on primal desire would be fragile, albeit, especially in the warrior class. But the only female pheromones that could undo it would be those of a female namekian. And they were extinct.

When he finished with that, he lined up the tribal affinity for his first son - Nurturer. He would reproduce as often as possible, given he could handle the immense responsibility of raising his children until they were able to raise each other.

Then it suddenly hit him that he had to set up an order…a system of governing for his children, so that they each had their place. So not only was he going to be a parent, but a leader, an icon, and an oracle all at once. This would change him in no small way.

Saying goodbye to the last of his youthful innocence, Guru tensed his torso muscles until his face split from a wet, malleable egg that ejected from his mouth. He caught it in his arms and hugged it to him as the exhaustion coerced him into lying down.

The last conscious thought that Guru had before sleep claimed him was that it felt good to be a father.

* * *

.

**A/N: The rest of the story will take place during DBZ. **


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_**

"Oh…ssss-shiiit…_teh_…."

Axle looked over to the humanoid insect who stared nervously at the engineering screen in the navigation room. His glittering compound eyes and clicking mandibles showed all the signs of sudden anxiety, not to mention the eerie pitch of his dual-toned voice.

_Agh, hell…_

"What'd ya do, Sprocket?" she asked, not liking his lack of composure at all. They were about to enter Namek's atmosphere, and the _last_ two words you wanted the ship's engineer to say during a planet drop were 'Oh shit'.

He ignored her as he clicked away, blipping up different angles of the ship, each gesture more frantic…more twitchy.

"Sprocket?"

"It'ss the Atmoss Ssshield," he hissed. "It'ss malfunctioning."

She choked. "WHAT?" Axle unlatched her chair strap, despite the proximity to Namek's atmosphere, and ran over to look at the screen. Sure enough, blitzing in bright red warning signs were the components of the Atmos Shield. "Has to be a system glitch," she stammered, "Gauge had the shield serviced back on Rameumptum. They regenerated it…"

A feint, sickly moan resounded from the chair behind them, and they turned to face the fur coated, eight-legged swatheswrap. Gauge's black oily eyes were already locked on them with the most unsettling expression of 'Oops' that Axle had ever seen.

"Gauge…" she managed, fighting the expression on his face with sickened denial. "I gave you the money…"

Guiltily, Gauge looked away, his appendages shrinking around his body in some dim remnant of self-preservation, as though he could protect himself against what was coming.

"You didnnn…_teh_!" Sprocket squeaked in morbid dread beside her. Gauge said nothing, but Axle knew the look on his visage all too well. It was the one associated with his worst vice.

She choked. "YOU GAMBLED AWAY OUR REPAIR MONEY?" Suddenly the ship jolted, and Axle grasped the back of Sprocket's chair as they began to enter Namek's atmosphere. "Of all the-" the words frothed on her tongue as another jerk cut her invective short. "You scatterbrained, hair-covered slug!"

"What the hell's going on!" came Two Stroke's voice behind them. She spun to see the rubber-skinned captain rigidly running towards them. He gaped at the screen just as the ship shook violently, throwing Axle to the floor. The sound of popping bolts and screaming metal thundered on the deck, deafening in its protest. In answer to the captain's question, the screen showed with horrific detail the eastern hull as it literally delaminated and peeled off into space.

As they all struggled to keep a hold, Two Stroke gaped at the screen, mouthing the words 'My ship…'. Then he found his voice. "My ship!" His white-knuckled grip on the back of Sprocket's chair snapped off the headrest, and his voice went up an octave and cracked.

"MY SHIP!"

"Strap in!" Axle pushed at him, accepting the fact that they were probably going to die, her fury at Gauge the only thing giving her the rationale to move. His eyes glistening in a crazed stupefaction, Two Stroke ambled over to his seat, and Axle crawled back up into hers and buckled in.

As the gravity of Namek latched onto their unprotected ship with a force, the temperature increased unbearably, and the roar of tortured steel rattled in her head. Feeling her fangs bite into her lip from the rickety death plunge, Axle cursed Gauge. She'd waited her whole life for a chance to set foot down on Namekian soil - not to be buried under it.

Both terrified and belligerent, she took one last moment to glare murderously over at her gambling comrade, toying with ideas of what she'd do to him if by some miracle they survived.

"You'd better…pray for death…swatheswrap!"

* * *

.

Nail sliced through the air at his top speed, his heart thumping against his ribs in anticipation. Guru had sensed the alien ship when it entered the atmosphere - or more accurately, sensed the distress of its inhabitants. Nail had been meditating at the time when his father's command pierced through his concentration with spine-straightening poignancy.

_Nail!_

His eyes had flung open at the urgency of the tone. _Guru…?_

_A ship is going to crash on the mesa, and you are the fastest, my son. You won't be able to stop it, but you might arrive in time to salvage some of their lives. I'm sending Bok the Healer after you._

It was reflex to obey Guru's command, and he powered up without hesitation and burst into the air towards the mesa. As he curled over the globe, a fluttering twinkle caught his eye as the suns' rays reflected off the metal vessel that was plummeting to the ground.

He gaped at its speed. _There won't be anything left to salvage… _

Brief anxiety-ridden kis flickered off and on, as though battling consciousness. The ship's thrusters were spitting against the descent, and Nail realized that if it didn't angle out soon, there would be nothing he could do.

_Pull up!_ He screamed silently. _Pull up!_

As though in response to his plea, it broke off at a sharp bend, and skidded across the green landscape when it hit, leaving a hideous scar in its wake. The thunderous sound of its impact filled his ears and reverberated all the way to his toes.

Unprepared for the noise, Nail grunted and crumpled like a winged bird. He fell several yards before he was able to regain his flight. But when he did, he was doubly panicked. The thing had burst into flames.

_Porunga…_

Touching down by the sizzling hunk of metal, he tried first to put it out with a non-explosive ki blast. But the fire was fed from within, and encompassed the ship anew, despite his efforts to extinguish it.

Sweating profusely, he scouted out what looked to be an entrance. Knowing next to nothing about the vehicle's design, Nail only hoped that the inhabitants weren't directly behind it.

Because he blew it to hell.

His blast sent it peeling inward, and he ducked through the flames into the smoldering ship. The burning interior scorched his skin and singed his clothes as a putrid smoke assaulted his senses, giving him the impression that things were going to get worse, real fast. He ran blindly through the heated passageways, until he came to an open room.

Four alien creatures lolled their heads in unconsciousness, strapped securely in their rooted chairs. Not having the time to assess anything besides their rapidly dimming life forces, Nail proceeded to sear their strappings with his ki, loosening the cooked, swollen bodies. Then, taking two at a time he rescued them from the collapsing structure just moments before it caved in on itself in a melted, polluted heap of metal.

"Hurry, Bok," he muttered under his breath as he worried over the soon-to-be corpses. Each seemed to be a different species. One looked like a giant insect, while another resembled a fur-covered sea creature. Then there was an ambiguously featured, rubber-skinned individual, while next to that was a gray humanoid, not unlike his own kind.

Nail deduced by the bruising and swelling that the impact had liquefied their bones against the strappings of their chairs, and nearly stretched their heads right off their necks. Their skin looked and smelled as though it had been held over a fire. It was a gruesome sight, and Nail bit back a sudden wave of nausea. He could sense nearly nothing from them by now, realizing that one, if not more, had already died.

So engrossed was he in their visually unsettling state, that it caught him off guard when Bok touched down next to him. "Do they still live?" he asked somberly.

Nail cleared the lump in his throat, and met his eyes. "You tell me."

Bok leaned over the multi-appendaged alien and grimaced as he spread his hands over its torso. "This one's dead." Without hesitation, he then moved to the insectoid, and then the rubber-skin. After a moment of concentration, he shook his head. "And so are these two."

Nail stepped back as Bok then hovered over the gray creature. Perhaps it was the feint resemblance it had to his own people, but he found himself holding his breath and giving a quick prayer to Porunga that they might save this last alien.

Bok's brow quirked, a sign that he'd found a spark of life. Nail breathed a sigh of relief as the aura encompassed the Healer, and then watched in wonderment as the stranger's features regained their shape.

More learned than most of his brethren, Nail took note of the curvy figure and realized that this one was a female, no doubt belonging to one of those species that required two genders to procreate. Her deep black-burgundy hair was braided back behind her pointed ears in a practical fashion - as practical as the green pants, black boots and sleeveless, mid-riff top she wore. Heavily-muscled, but not obscene, her body showed a smattering of scars that gave him the impression that she'd been in a handful of fights.

A gold hoop earring out of one ear offset a brilliant yellow star-shaped birthmark around her left eye - something that contrasted violently with the smooth gray hue of her skin. Her appearance intrigued him, naturally. It was the first alien he'd ever seen, and he found himself curious to see how she'd interact with them.

The aura dissipated, and her fierce green eyes fluttered open, as confused and panicked as a grass rodent clutched in the talons of a morning bird. But before Bok could remove his hands, she'd snatched a barrel-shaped weapon from a holster on her thigh, and jammed it under his chin.

Bok stiffened and held his breath as her other hand curled in his neck wrap. Misinterpreting his intentions, she hissed at him, her fangs glistening white in the sunlight.

Nail took a step towards them and she snarled a him. Her aggression startled him, but he was no fool. Aware that any sudden movement might cause her to harm the Healer, he held his hands out in a placating gesture. "We're here to help you," he coaxed uneasily, hoping that she'd hear the peace in his words if not understand them.

The female studied their faces warily, intrigue gradually replacing suspicion. With a forceful shove, she released Bok and raised herself up on her elbows, frowning.

Nail watched in quiet sympathy as her gaze fell on the steaming pile that used to be their space ship. Her face opened in stunned comprehension, and she shakily stood to her feet, taking three mindless steps towards it.

Her shoulders tensed all the way up to her ears, and a whimper escaped her lips as she slapped a black-gloved hand to her forehead. After several seconds of stupefied silence, she clenched her fists. To Nail's surprise, she started pacing back and forth, flinging her arms in furious gestures, _yelling_…at the ship. Though he didn't understand her language, the tone of her voice and spittle on her lips gave him a strong impression that the words were obscenities.

On one of her about-faces, she noticed the corpses of her comrades, and he braced himself for all that belligerent energy to transform into misery.

Her brows drew tight in the middle and she ran up to them, each one, and felt for a pulse, a look of pained disgust on her face at their misshapen appearances. The hair-covered, multi-appendaged creature was the last one she hovered over. After deducing that it was also dead, she gritted her teeth and clenched her eyes shut. Nail anticipated weeping or wailing. But the strange female did neither.

To his muted surprise, she stood and kicked her shipmate's corpse. Three times. Then she began a tirade of what Nail assumed was invective, making her earlier tantrum look like a prayer.

He could only watch in horrified fascination as she ranted and raved until her voice was hoarse. Then, in a blur, she unsheathed her weapon and pointed it at the body.

Nail locked wide-eyed stares with Bok, who shrugged, also stunned at her odd behavior.

He thought she meant to shoot her dead comrade, but instead the female straightened her back, braced her legs and blew a hole in the terrain beside them. Nail and Bok jumped as enough dirt to fill a small pond was displaced all around them. In its wake was a gaping hole that pocked the once-beautiful landscape.

Bok whimpered, his anxiety almost palpable. That very weapon had been shoved in his throat just moments earlier.

Then the alien female dropped to one knee, and heaved the fur-covered body up in her arms. Taking a brief moment to finally acknowledge the Namekians through a slit-eyed glance, she addressed them haughtily.

"Are you going to stand there, useless?" she asked in a thick guttural accent. "Or are you going to help me bury them?"

Nail gawked.

She knew their language.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3_ **

"The alien female set up camp by the Dragon Clan, father," Nail said the moment he strode through the entrance, an uncharacteristic anxiousness in the usual husky purr of his voice. "In the forested area by the lake. She wouldn't let us carry her, but we watched secretly until she settled."

"Hmmm." Guru peered through his ancient eyes at his alpha son, detecting with a bit of amusement the twitch in the young warrior's hands, the curious gleam in his wider-than-usual eyes, the quickness of his breath… This was the lad's first contact with any intelligent life other than his own kind.

And Nail was intrigued.

"A female," he hummed, recalling the smattering of species he was familiar with from before the virus. "What are her features?"

Nail's eyes widened, and all the exuberance of discovery broke the practiced reticence of his serious face. His fascination was inevitable, and Guru wondered just what kind of havoc this creature's presence would wreak on unchanging Namek if even his most stoic of warriors broke composure.

"Her skin is smoother than ours," Nail began, "with a shiny gray hue to it like polished stone. And she's strong, Guru. Perhaps a warrior of her kind, though she doesn't seem mentally disciplined," he frowned then. "Her reaction to her shipmates' deaths was…strange. She didn't mourn," he commented, small lines of concern already etching his face for this alien creature.

"Death," Guru began, lingering on the word for emphasis, "is a common occurrence amongst other species, son." He watched carefully as Nail's eyes narrowed in comprehension. "She might be coping with their passing in another way."

"I see," Nail said, his sympathy for the rest of the universe nearly tangible.

"What else did you observe about her?" Guru asked.

He shook himself and pondered. "Her irises. They're large and green like the sky, and she has a most unusual discoloring around her left eye - a brilliant yellow star-"

"A yellow birthmark?" Guru interrupted, familiar with the trait.

"Yes."

"And does she have hair the color of oil and blood, my son?"

Nail nodded slowly. "Depending on how the light hits it," he muttered, his mouth opening in curiosity. "You know what she is, father?"

"I do." _Unbelievable_, he thought. _Of all the species that could possibly land on Namek…_ "She is from the planet Rameumptum." At Nail's further hesitation, he added, "A planet of intergalactic commerce. Its indigenous people are tolerant, if not kind to other species. Or at least they were before the disaster."

"Amazing," Nail whispered, and then caught his bottom lip in between his teeth like a tenderling. "I wonder why they came here," he pondered. "She speaks our language."

"Oh?" Guru blinked in wonderment. "Perhaps Etrack had more of an influence there than I had anticipated…"

Nail choked. "_The_ Etrack, father?"

"The same," he answered patiently. "Rameumptum is where he was sent."

If Nail had been just curious before, now he was outright captivated. He shifted weight from one foot to the other, waiting anxiously for instruction. Guru would have chuckled, had the bouncing movement not aggravated his deteriorating organs.

The great patriarch was dying. His gigantism had enlarged him to the point where he could barely move. He was weighted down by massive folds, and even his eye ridges were so heavy that he could hardly open his eyes. The tinges of pain that had been plaguing him over the last few years only intensified instead of digressed.

He observed his son, the only child he had made with genes pulling from Nurturer, Warrior, and Leader all in one. Guru had created Nail after he reluctantly admitted that his days were short. At first he was concerned that the roles of Nurturer and Warrior would wash each other out, but they were just as potent and pure in the youth as one predisposed for those callings only. Nail was powerful…his strongest, yet he was meek and humble, loving more than dominating, even though Leader made him wise enough to rule over a people.

Guru knew he wasn't supposed to have favorites, but his alpha son made him immensely proud. The youth whom he would pass on the patriarchy to was schooled in much, as Guru had taken the time to teach him. But Nail was still innocent in life experience. It would do him well to familiarize himself with other species. After all, ignorance in leadership could equal disaster for a nation.

"The dragonballs won't be available for nearly another year," Guru finally commented, recalling the recent wish to restore a grassland area devastated by fire. "We won't be able to bring back her shipmates or space vessel for sometime."

Nail quirked his eye ridge. "What will we do with her?"

With a last minute analysis to weed out any loopholes that he'd missed, Guru voiced his decision. "Be hospitable, but cautious," he answered. "And I would have you acquaint yourself with the alien, Nail. Spend time with the creature, even at the cost of your other responsibilities. The lessons to be learned by a different species may benefit you more than a lifetime of teaching by me, my son."

A spark of enthusiasm flitted across Nail's reserved eyes before he bowed his head in reverence. "I won't disappoint you, Guru."

"You never have, lad," Guru said reassuringly. "You never have."

* * *

.

Axle rested her elbows on her knees as she nestled against the small lean-to she'd built. Her anger had just barely started to dissipate with the setting of Namek's suns, and now she stared up into the hazy dusk wondering just what the hell she was going to do now.

Etrack had been right. The two Namekians she'd met earlier were indeed peaceful. Had she not been so upset with her deceased comrade, she might have laughed at their reactions to her. But would they hinder or help her to find the dragonballs? Thanks to Gauge, she was already going to have to use up two of the wishes to bring back her shipmates, and the ship. And as for the third… Would the Namekians interfere?

Suddenly, she felt a presence touch down not far from her lean-to. It lingered but did not draw near. _Great_, she thought. _Just what I need. To be swamped with a bunch of technologically backwards tenderlings who don't know the difference between me and a rare bird._

She sighed heavily. "I know you're there, namekian, so you might as well come out," she said casually as she stuck a long blade of grass between her teeth, gazing nonchalantly at the calm lake in front of her.

There was a small hesitation, and then she heard the soft step of his shoes on the grass as he walked up next to her. She glanced up through slitted eyes, and almost lost her grip on her projection of bored annoyance.

_Egads… What a specimen._ Now that her vision wasn't blurred red by the ire of losing her crew and ship, she was able to appreciate to a degree just how aesthetically pleasing the warrior from earlier was.

The shimmering dusk bronzed his broad, massive profile as he stood upright and tall. The odd, pink patches that made Etrack look like a leper, somehow made this namekian look like a deity. His pants were white, and his muscled upper body was bare. But the most startling thing about him wasn't his physique so much as the expression on his chiseled face.

It said 'kind'…'gentle'… As though having such obvious strength didn't taint his ego or temperament one iota. She clicked her tongue. Like _that_ was a possibility. He was probably just better at hiding his uglier side than most…

Either way, she turned back to the lake, figuring it'd be easier to maintain a conversation if she wasn't directly looking at him. "You're curious," she analyzed. "But if you intend to lock me up in a glass cage for display, then it might be better for your health if you left."

After a few moments of strained silence, he spoke up.

"My people aren't like that," he purred in a soft, but husky voice.

She snorted, surprised at his ignorance. "Not yet," she said. "Just wait until they know I'm here," at his silence, she continued. "How many forms of intelligent life have your people been exposed to?"

He was quiet.

"Yeah. That's what I thought," she said as she tongued the blade of grass from one side of her mouth to the other. "Right now, I only have you spying on me, but give it time. Pretty soon I'll be pestered by herds of namekians wanting to get a glance at the foreign creature that got stranded on their planet."

"I…" he hesitated, and she took a slight pleasure in knowing that she made him uncomfortable. "I wanted to make sure you were all right."

She snorted. "Oh, naturally. That sounds much more altruistic than just being obsessed with the freak alien, eh?"

"I'm telling the truth," he countered, more strength in his tone. "You didn't mourn the loss of your comrades."

Suddenly, visuals swamped her mind of their bloated, burned faces and charred, disfigured bodies. It had been a horrible sight to see, only alleviated somewhat by her earlier belligerence, but now that _that_ was gone… She had to bite back a sudden wave of nausea, and hung her head between her knees. "I was trying to avoid that, but thanks for bringing it up," she spat. "Ass."

He winced. "I didn't mean-"

"Leave me alone, eh namekian?" she said.

"We can help you, if you'll let us," he said, his persistence beginning to break her down.

"I don't need your help," she said without looking at him. "I've got a water source here, and felled two birds a bit ago"

"Felled two…birds?" he asked uneasily. She looked up at his worried face, and jerked her chin at the lean-to. The warrior turned his head and grimaced when he saw the corpses. "You killed them…"

"Listen, plant boy," she said, using her delight at his discomfort as a welcome distraction to the memories of her shipmates' corpses. "Most species need more than water and sun to survive. The longer I stay here, the more of your pretty creatures get blasted."

It took a moment for his pained expression to relax, and he sighed and looked back at her. "I understand." Then he frowned curiosity, as his train of thought shifted to another aspect of her being there. "You knew Etrack?"

Another sore spot. It didn't surprise her they remembered the great namekian, even after all this time. She blinked back the sting in her eyes. "Of course I did. How else would I know your language?"

When he opened his mouth to ask her another question, she held a hand up. "Let me remind you that I not only lost a ship today, but my comrades as well," she said, and locked stares with him. "I'm not in the mood for conversation."

He wasn't offended. If anything, her comment seemed to make him even more concerned. The tall namekian crouched down and bowed his head until his eyes were level with hers. She flinched when he placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"The Dragon Clan is right over the hill," he said softly as he cocked his head in said direction. "You are welcome there. And as for your friends and your ship, we can wish them back as soon as the dragonballs are available again. They're-"

"I know what they are," she said quietly, surprised that he just offered them to her. Just like that. Without proof of trust, or anything.

He gave her a curious look, but to his credit kept his question to himself. "Well, then," he began as he stood to his full height. "I'll be back later. When you are ready, I would like to hear about your people, and your travels in space."

He was so dang polite about it, all she could do was nod her head.

"My name is Nail."

"Axle," she said.

"Axle," he repeated. Her name sounded almost delicate on his lips, and she had to bite back a laugh, as she was anything but.

"Until later, then." A curt nod and he hopped into the sky.

_Hmph_, she thought to herself when he was gone. _If all namekians are even half that pleasant, I'll be hard-pressed to leave when the time comes._


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter 4_**

Not much later, when the first sun reached its peak in the sky, Nail found himself delegating his mentor responsibilities to other warriors of the Dragon Clan. The three large brethren before him, Choda, Churet and Chik, stood amiably with their arms folded heavily across broad chests, accepting their added responsibilities as readily as lake birds accept fish.

"The tenderlings in the primary batch are ready to learn the skill of flight, while the secondary has just barely learned to focus their ki," he continued. "And Bok has a couple scrubs in his new grouping that he claims are better suited to be warriors than healers."

They nodded, accustomed to the shared duty. Nail had been dividing it between them for the past year anyhow, so that he could spend more time with Guru, learning the ways of a patriarch.

Choda, his eyes narrowing in curiosity, jerked his chin. "So tell us, Nail. Since the Father has requested that you spend time with this alien, do you plan on bringing it to the clan?"

Nail sighed, considering the newcomer's gruff and fiercely independent nature. "That would be up to her. I offered at last dusk, but she is uncomfortable accepting our help."

"A female, you say?" Chik asked.

Nail nodded, and watched in subdued amusement as their faces scrunched in unfamiliarity at such an odd concept - an intelligent species needing two genders to procreate, just like animals.

"And it has the ability to reason?" Churet asked innocently.

Nail chuckled. "As much as you or I."

Their eyes widened, and they smiled good-naturedly. Choda clasped Nail on the shoulder. "Well, let the alien know it is welcome here. We could learn much from it, no doubt."

Nail was about to reply when the sound of alarmed voices caught his attention. He craned his neck in the direction of the commotion to see several namekians running out of their domes and stopping in rigid surprise. He followed their stunned gaze, and gawked.

Holding herself with all the dignity of a carnivore in the midst of plant-eaters, Axle strode solidly through the clan center, tossing pointed glares at the brethren as she passed. Tucked securely under her muscled arms were two namekian children, wide-eyed and blushing.

"If you'll…excuse me," Nail muttered absently as he took off at a brisk jog. No one had yet confronted her, though her presence drew them like pollen bugs to a flower. Unsure of her intentions, he preferred to be the first one to intercept the alien female, and made his way through the growing crowd, catching her attention.

Axle stopped when she saw him and her eyes crinkled in a knowing smirk as he approached her. Without speaking, she dangled the embarrassed young namekians out at arms' length, by the seat of their pants. "Do these belong to you?" she asked, her thick accent warbling the words. "I found them by the river, stuck in a tree."

The little namekians began to squirm, and Nail didn't doubt for one second that they'd been spying on her. He took them off her hands and lifted them up until their eyes were level with his. "Of all the trees to climb, and it had to be one by our new friend's camp, eh scrubs?"

Their flush darkened, and little anxious giggles escaped their lips. With a nervous glance at Axle, one of the tenderlings cupped a hand up to his mouth. "We saw it in the lake, Nail," he hissed in a strangled tone meant to be a whisper. "I think the alien is a warrior!"

Nail risked a quick glance at Axle, relieved to see her eyebrows quirk in amusement rather than furrow in anger. He looked back at the scrub. "Oh? And what makes you say that?"

"It's strong!" he declared, biting off the words for emphasis. Then other one nodded vigorously.

"Yeah. Its chest muscles are so big," he whispered with enthusiasm, "they _stick out_." He held curled hands several inches off his own chest in demonstration, as he added, "_Way_ out!"

Nail had also noticed that odd part of her physical structure, though he wasn't about to direct everyone's attention to it. If they were going to establish a friendship with the alien, they needed to focus on similarities, not differences. He looked apologetically at Axle, and caught a maroon flush that tinged her cheeks.

"You might consider schooling your tenderlings on the female anatomy," she said heatedly, folding her arms across her chest. Nail blinked stupidly. Something had upset her, and he'd missed it.

He dropped the children, and they scuttled over to Bok the Healer who was watching bemusedly at the edge of the growing crowd. "Well, you're the first one they've seen," he replied innocently, "that isn't an indigenous animal of this planet, anyhow."

"What?" Her face twisted in confusion, and then her eyes narrowed. "Where are your females?" she asked warily, as though he were hiding them in slave mines underground.

Nail shrugged. "There aren't any."

She frowned suspicion at him, and glanced nervously at the surrounding brethren..

Nail swept his arm across the crowd of namekian spectators. "We're an asexual species."

Her mouth opened in an unspoken thought, and a handful of expressions crossed her face then, none of which were 'believing'. Nail sighed internally. Why would she think he was lying? "It's true," he asserted, confused at her reaction.

After a moment of scrutiny, she snorted and shook her head. "_You_ obviously think so."

Nail frowned. _Huh?_

"Whatever," she said, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. "Look. While I'm here, I need clothes. These were charred paper-thin by the planet drop." She held out a pinch of fabric from her pants only to have it piece off between her fingers. A small hole was left in its place, revealing the shimmering gray skin underneath. As Nail took in the rest of her attire, he realized that it was indeed falling apart.

"Oh…" He scrutinized her figure, and then took a step back. "Hold still." Ignoring her perplexed expression, he focused his ki and called on a magic that only a handful of brethren had learned - Clothes making.

The energy whipped the wind around him, and just as light started to spark about her, Axle hissed and jumped back. A white bundle of clothes materialized where she'd been, and crumpled to the floor.

"What the hell was that!" she cried, her green eyes panicked and accusatory. A low rumble rippled through the spectators as they started to chuckle.

Nail held his hands out in a placating gesture. "Axle, you didn't hold still."

She looked at him as though he were insane. "Hold still! While you zap me?"

"It doesn't hurt," Nail said and pointed to the clothes on the ground. "It's how we create our attire." He neared her and placed both hands on her shoulders. "Trust me."

She pursed her lips and glared at a couple namekians whose laughter rose above the rest. Nail noticed that at her daggered look, they quieted down immediately. "Alright. Just hurry it up. All this attention is making me trigger happy." She patted her gun for emphasis.

Nail gulped and nodded. Locking stares with her, he summoned the magic again, and this time when the air crackled and spat around her, she stiffened, but didn't move. With a flash of light, a pair of black pants materialized on her lower half with a simple white vest on top. Nail smiled and was just about to comment on his good work when she looked down at her torso, and gasped.

One of her hands clenched the vest's material in front while the other simultaneously snaked out and slapped him hard across the face. He winced, and held a hand up to his stinging cheek. The brethren went silent with shock. She'd just hit him, and they hadn't even been sparring.

Rubbing his face, he frowned at her. "Why did-"

"Give it ties, namekian!"

"What?"

"Laces, a sash, or something!" her voice raised in pitch as she demonstrated that the vest needed to be closed in front. At his further hesitation, she whipped her thigh weapon out of its holster and pointed it at his face. "NOW!"

Startled, Nail did as she said, and a few loose strings appeared on the inner stitching of the vest. With a growl and a highly annoyed glare, she fixated on tying it up as he watched her in confusion.

When she was done, she made to leave, but hesitated at the swarm of brethren that blocked her way. They wore an assortment of expressions; some curious, others confused, others engrossed… It was a lot of attention for someone who seemed to prefer solitude.

Nail watched warily as her lip twitched and curled up over her fangs. Afraid that she might hurt someone, he walked up behind her and clamped his arms around her from behind, pinning her hands to her waist. She gasped, and turned her head to gape at him in muted appall.

"I'm taking you back," he said gruffly, and before she could protest, he launched up in the air. Whatever vehemence she professed earlier was undermined by her obvious fear of heights as the air peeled around them. She went completely rigid and squeaked.

"Nail!" she hissed, staring bug-eyed at the ground below. "I'm…gonna…kill you!"

"I was afraid you were going to hurt someone," he reasoned, suddenly noticing as he held her against him that her gray skin radiated a lot more heat than he'd suspected. It was trivial, but it caught his attention.

"I _am_ going to hurt someone," she spat, but her threat sounded more like a whimper. "_You_!"

He could see her lean-to down below, as he'd been flying relatively fast, and dropped down. She struggled against him, but he wouldn't release her.

"We're a peaceful people, Axle."

"I know that!"

He felt her gun on the inside of his leg and shuddered at the thought of her using it against his people. "Your weapon has no place on our world."

"It has a place in my holster, and that's where it's going to stay!" At his tightened grip, she finally relaxed and sighed wearily. "Already making ultimatums for your interplanetary guest, eh Nail?"

"We won't harm you."

"I'm not getting rid of my gun," she said in a tone that left no room for argument. "But I won't use it against you now, if that's what you're afraid of."

That was good enough, he figured. But it unsettled him that there was so much anger in her. So much mistrust. Nail had never been around anyone like that before, and it saddened, intrigued, and confused him all at once. He wanted to understand her. He had so many questions, that-

"So are you going to let go of me?" she asked, turning her head and peering up at him.

"Oh…" He released her, wondering why he hadn't done it sooner.

She turned around and placed her hands on her hips, her black-burgundy braid draped over one shoulder as she cocked her head and stared up at him. "You've got a lot to learn about the universe, namekian."

"I would have you teach me."

Her reflective eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him. He held his breath, hoping she'd relent. After several uncomfortable seconds she threw her hands up and plunked down on the grass by the lake.

Taking her lack of rejection as an affirmative, he went down and sat cross-legged, next to her. "You know, Axle, our lack of technology makes us no less advanced," he informed, peacefully.

She snorted. "Please. "Ignorance reigns on Namek."

Nail sighed inwardly. It might take a while to change her of that opinion, but her preconceived notion just fueled his incentive to try.

"So tell me," she said without taking her gaze off the lake. "What is your role amongst your kind?"

Nail blinked back his surprise. He hadn't anticipated that she might initiate the conversation. He inhaled deeply. "Many things. One day I'll be patriarch over my race, but for now I'm the mentor over the warriors of the Dragon Clan."

She wrapped her arms around her knees and glanced at him. "Sounds important."

Nail shrugged. "It's my calling. I'd be just as content if my place in life was a simple Nurturer."

"So there's no jealousy from others?"

_Jealousy_. The word was almost unfamiliar. It was a term he'd learned from Guru's studies. "None at all. We are each part of a whole, here."

She chuckled. "Sounds like a regular paradise," she said as she laid back on the grass with her hands clasped behind her head. Nail's attention immediately went to the puckering vest stretched over her chest muscles. It was so unusual. He found it…pretty? _No_… Decorative? He frowned, trying to place the impression it gave him.

_Carnal?_

She looked up at the sky. "So one day you'll be in charge of the namekians, but for now you're the warrior's mentor in the most significant clan of all Namek."

He choked. How did she know so much about his kind? He saw an opening and took it. "You know, it's the same calling that Etrack had before he left for Rameumptum."

She stiffened, and glanced at him knowingly. He raised his eye ridges in mock innocence.

"Fine, Nail," she said, shaking her head. "Ask your questions, but don't expect complete answers."

He couldn't help feeling like he'd won a small victory. He shifted on the grass until he was facing her. "How did you know him?"

A flicker of pain crossed her face right then, but she winced it back. "He was a hermit that dwelt near my grandmother's village. He was…_close_…with my family."

"And you spent much time with him?"

"I did." She was quiet for several seconds, as though deciding how much to tell him. Finally, she continued, reliving her past as though he weren't even there.

"My mother was involved in politics in a volatile, urban city," she began, her eyes twinkling with emotion. "A speciest movement began to gain momentum when I was a girl, and she fought it. Out in the open, not realizing or caring that it endangered us. And to make a long story short, she was assassinated."

Nail's heart hurt. He couldn't imagine anything more awful. Guru was constantly trying to prepare him for his imminent passing, but Nail still feared that his father's loss might drive him mad. He wanted to reassure her somehow, but the events were all in the past, and there was no point in putting bandages on an old scar. So he sat quietly and listened.

She continued. "I had no father, as my mother had bought the sperm that made me from a bank. The man who it came from, though, was apparently some great governor who died six decades ago," then the tension in her face relaxed as she addressed the lighter side note. "Expensive but coveted stuff, his sperm. I swear I'm probably related to half of Rameumptum's upper class."

"How strange," he commented. "With such a plethora of genetic variation, one would think such specializing wouldn't be necessary."

She shrugged. "Well, I don't think I'm all that special, to be honest. Unique, yes. Special, no."

He snorted, contemplating what he knew of her character. "I can't imagine there are many of your kind that are like you."

She smirked in a way that made him think he'd barely scratched the surface of some great tomb. "You have no idea."

"So what happened when your mother was taken from you?"

"Etrack intervened, and took me in. That's when I found out he was a lot more than just a weird alien hermit. He was so enraged at my mother's death that he broke his vow of not teaching violence, and began to teach me the ways of the warrior."

_Whoa_… That meant Etrak would have gone centuries without passing on his wisdom. It was almost unbelievable. "He never taught anyone before that?"

She shook her head. "Said that violence was too intrinsic in a Rameumptum's nature. He said that we'd misuse the power. I guess he should have stuck to his resolve, because that is exactly what happened with me."

His fixed gaze urged her to continue.

"I didn't learn all I should have, mind you," she said, sticking a blade of grass in her mouth, and stretching her hand back behind her head. "I was hell bent on revenge, and when I felt he'd taught me enough to avenge my mother, I took off for the city. I was only thirteen."

"So young?" Nail couldn't even imagine the tenderlings he knew embarking on such a dark mission. He could barely envision the adults doing so, even if it were a just cause.

She nodded. "By that time, the speciests had come to power, and I barged right in on a council meeting they were having at the city center," a humorless chuckle escaped her lips and she shook her head. "The majority if not all of their leaders were there, and I didn't realize it, but Etrack had followed me. The vigilante bastard caught up to me right when I entered the room."

Her words were harsh, but her voice was strained.

"Words were shared. None too kind when they associated us with my mother, and next thing I know, they took an emulsifier," she patted the gun on her thigh, "and shot Etrack before he even knew he was in its sights." Hard lines creased her face, and she swallowed. "Took his head clean off his shoulders."

Nail gritted his teeth and looked down. _So that was how the legendary Etrack had met his end, and right before her young eyes._ It was awful. The story evoked strong emotions in him. The poor female even felt the need to carry with her the weapon that destroyed her mentor, as though its presence could somehow protect the great namekian from a death that had already claimed him.

After a long, shuddering breath, Axle continued. "I don't remember much after that, but the next time I saw straight, everyone was dead."

Nail gaped at her, with one word forming in his mind. _Berserker…_

She flicked a glance at him, then. "Two Stroke, the rubber-skinned captain that we buried yesterday - he was out in the hallway at the time, petitioning for a license to buy and sell goods at the spaceport. He came running in after it all happened, and after gawking at the corpses of the entire regime, he blew his breath out in a long whistle and shook his head, 'Well,' he mused jovially as though I'd just spilled my drink instead of slaughtered an entire room full of people. 'So much for the Speciest Movement!'"

She started to laugh, but Nail didn't miss the moisture glistening her green eyes. "And he grafted you into his crew?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "He turned to me afterwards and said, 'Kid, I could use someone like you.' Having nowhere else to go, I joined up with his posse of mercenaries, and have been with them ever since."

"Mercenaries…"

"Muscle for hire, though most of what we do is more brains than brawn," she smirked without mirth. "More crooked than straight."

At his questioning glance, she continued. "Can't say much of our work is ethical, but we have our own code of honor," she caught his gaze, a glint of irony in her face, "skewed though it may be."

"Hmm…" Just in the past few minutes she'd become so real, so dimensional, so wounded… He sympathized with her now on so many levels, and wondered if he too would have projected such a hard exterior had he been subject to the same circumstance. And her line of work…he could only guess at the details, but he didn't doubt that the scars on her body came from after she met Two Stroke, not before.

"So what brought you to Namek?"

She sighed. "Dragonballs. What else?"

"What did-"

"I think that's a perfect place to stop, don't you?" she asked, quirking a brow at him.

Nail opened his mouth to disagree, but realized he was fortunate she'd divulged as much information as she had. The rest could wait. After all, it wasn't like she was going anywhere anytime soon. "I understand." He stood to his feet, and turned to leave.

"Hey Nail," she said, her expression surprisingly playful, even after the harsh telling of her story.

"Yes?"

She toyed with the blade of grass in her mouth before continuing, her lips curling up into a smile. "Next time you have a conversation with a female, _Mister_ I-have-no-gender," she jested, the humor in the title somehow eluding him, "It's common etiquette to keep your eyes on her face."

He frowned confusion, and she glanced pointedly down at her chest where the vest stretched over her protruding… Whatever they were. But as she drew attention to them, he realized that he indeed had been staring at that part of her anatomy for much of the conversation.

Then, a vague realization washed over him, and though he didn't comprehend it completely, it was enough to make the blood rush to his cheeks. His eyes trailed back up to her face, and he gulped. "They aren't chest muscles, are they?"

She laughed heartily at what Nail assumed was his glaring ignorance.

"No."


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 5_**

**A HUNDRED DAYS LATER**

Nail gingerly picked up the newborn hatchling from the litter of its cracked shell. Little squeaking noises emanated from its mouth while teeny green fists pushed against the open air in alarm. "There now, little brother," he cooed as he curled the infant securely against his chest.

"He misses his shell," breathed a soft, accented voice behind him. Nail turned his head to look at Axle, who was hovering over them with the most curious face he'd seen on her yet. Her large, green eyes were fixed on the child in his arms, and her mouth was open in some unspoken thought.

"He'll be grateful it's gone in a couple weeks, after he doubles in size," he commented, enjoying her honest reaction. "Here." Nail held the infant out to her before she could refuse and laid it in her arms.

"Uh, I…" She leaned back in surprise, but not before instinctively circling her arms around the newest addition to the namekian race. It whimpered a little before nuzzling against the warmth of her body, and Nail watched in fascination as the hard lines of Axle's usual expression softened into something much less disciplined.

She bit her bottom lip, as though in effort to retrieve the innocent smile that lifted the corners of her mouth. She flicked a quick, enlivened glance up at him, and he thought he'd never seen such delight in her eyes. "He's so…helpless," she said as she stared down at the child's scrunched, chubby face.

"For now," Nail said, recalling the terrifying birth that almost killed Guru. "But he is destined for greatness, this one. He will be the last of Guru's children."

She looked up at that. "No more, eh?"

Nail shook his head and breathed a sigh of relief. "He is old. And he's done his part in replenishing our world."

"Hmmm…" She looked thoughtful and bowed her head to make soft clicking noises at the baby. The child had relaxed considerably in her arms. "So what's going to be this one's name?"

Nail inhaled deeply. "Dende."

"And he'll be special…"

"Guru doesn't combine affinities very often in his children, and when he does, it never exceeds two."

"Until now?" she prodded.

"Until I was born, and then again with this one," Nail reached out and ran a taloned finger across the infant's soft arm. "We both have three. I am Warrior, and Dende will be Healer, but we both inherited Nurturer and Leader as well."

She smiled warmly at him. It was something she did rarely, and he guarded each moment like a trophy. It showed how comfortable she'd become in his company, which was great considering how much he enjoyed hers.

Axle became a regular visitor of the clan. After initial introductions, several of the brethren had befriended her as well, making her less reluctant to come around. Granted, most of her time was spent in the nursery with the wee scrubs, as they made her feel like less of an alien than anyone.

But Nail definitely looked forward to their moments together. She had taught him much about the unwritten laws of space travel, and interplanetary communication. She had schooled him on the ways of Rameumptum, and some of her more questionable adventures as a mercenary. Not to mention the way she constantly made him question his traditional way of thinking. There were so many facets to her personality that Nail was never bored around her, even when there was nothing to say.

"Well, I must say, your species makes some damn cute babies," she began as she rocked the sleeping infant, and then a hint of mischief twinkled in her eyes. "And the adults aren't too bad, either."

_Cute?_ Nail looked down at baby Dende and frowned. He was nothing like the infant. He was self sufficient, mature, strong… She apparently found his expression amusing, however, because she chuckled and shook her head.

Nail studied her. "You know, one of these days I'll understand why you laugh at me like that," he said in his defense.

She locked stares with him, then, the mirth lessening in her face. "Nail, the day that happens, your world will turn upside down."

* * *

. 

Later on, after he'd taken his shift with the warrior tenderlings, Nail went off in search of Axle for their daily fraternizing. To his surprise, she wasn't in the nursery, nor was she with Bok, watching his sprouting healers learn. He was about to take off for her camp outside the clan when he heard frivolous laughter coming from one of domes. Curious, he walked over and peered inside the doorway.

Axle was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Choda, Churet and Chik, and they were playing a game using polished stones. Axle pounded on the floor with her fist, and swiped up a handful of them.

Choda and Churet burst into gut-busting guffaws as they poked and slapped at Chik, who was looking rather glum.

"Just be grateful that this is pretend, and that these rocks aren't your livelihood, Chik," Axle said as she winked at him. The gesture brightened his face, and Nail watched in awkward discomfort as his warrior brother blushed.

Axle's eyes sparkled in the same shade of green as her attire, the pants and laced up vest contrasting nicely against her shimmering skin. The color seemed to look better on her than on the sloping grasslands, or emerald sky. She had requested a daily change of clothes, and Nail had obliged, noticing as he did so that some shades accented her alien prettiness better than others. He'd been quite proud of the most recent attire. Until he saw how his warrior brethren were staring at her, that is.

Before, the alien female had merely intrigued them. Now, as he watched how much of their attention was focused on Axle, he realized that they were downright captivated by her; sneaking glances when her eyes were averted, watching every movement as though she were weaving water with her hands…

It bothered him. After some analysis, Nail considered that perhaps it had something to do with her influence reducing such disciplined warriors to the maturity level of tenderlings, all jests and chuckles.

_Yeah_, he told himself. _That must be it_.

Axle finally noticed him and jerked her chin in acknowledgement. "How were your stripling warriors?"

Choda, Churet and Chik's heads swiveled on their necks to see who had distracted her from the game. Nail shifted uncomfortably.

"They're learning."

The gaiety of the scene died down as they no doubt realized that Nail had come to take her away from them, and he tried to ignore the narrowed stares as he stood innocently in the doorway.

"Well, good thing you showed up," she mused as she gathered the rocks on the floor and piled them in front of her. "Chik was about to lose his shirt, his pants, and that ridiculous looking neck wrap you people wear for adornment…" She grinned and glanced up at Chik, who smiled bashfully and looked down at his feet.

Nail fought the urge to roll his eyes - a gesture she'd taught him.

Axle hopped up. "Alright, boys. It's been fun, but I have to go entertain your brother, now."

They mumbled goodbyes as she walked out of the dome, and Nail didn't miss the greener-than-usual tone to their faces. It put him at unease. He was the one Guru had put in charge of familiarizing with the female, not them. Yet it seemed with each passing day, they were holding it against him more and more.

"So where are we going today?"

Her question startled him out of his troubled thoughts, and he looked down into her gray-skinned face. "There's a large body of water on the opposite side of Namek," he explained. "It's home to some of our most distinguished creatures."

She shrugged. "Well then, let's go."

* * *

.

They touched down a while later, just as the first sun had peeked up over the horizon. Axle was grateful that Choda and Churet had taught her how to fly earlier. Granted, heights still terrified her so she stayed low, but it kept her from relying on Nail for transportation. And the less she had to rely on the namekians, the better.

The water lapped softly against the sandy bank, and she stripped off her shoes, and rolled her pants up to her knees.

"What are you doing?"

She looked over her shoulder at Nail who was leaning against the wall of the cliff along the shore. Shadow shaded his broad, bare-chested form, and she fought back a sudden wave of spontaneous sensuality - something she'd had to do a lot of recently, around him.

"I'm wading," at his perplexed look she walked into the water up to her calves, and dug her toes in the sand. "So where are these impressive animals you've been telling me about?" She turned around to see him hovering up to her, his feet inches from the gentle water.

"They'll be here. Our presence is known."

"Hmm…" Axle reluctantly admitted that she didn't care much for the animals. It was just another excuse to spend time with the attractive, and totally oblivious namekian. She'd learned so much about their people in the time that she'd been there; their societal structuring, their daily routines, their impeccably honorable natures… Namekians were the most noble and perfected species she had ever met. And Nail was the ruby in a stack of gems - the best Namek had to offer. His gentle nature, his warrior training, his stoic presence… He almost seemed too good to be true.

She had yet to meet Guru, as he seemed the enigmatic figure in the background - a deity that knew all while experiencing nothing. But from she saw, it looked like Nail was Guru's favorite. And the most amazing thing was that no one seemed jealous of him.

Until lately, that is. She didn't miss the envious glares that some of the warriors would toss his way when she spent time with the alpha son, or Nail's growing possessiveness of her as a result. It was strange. In a way, she almost felt like her presence was bringing out the evil in a good people. If she didn't enjoy their company so much, she would just camp up in solitude until the dragonballs were summoned.

Curious to see how aware Nail was of the growing tension among his kin, she decided to indirectly bring it up. "Your warrior brethren are fun gamers," she said as innocently as she could. "Not very good, but highly amusing."

She watched a couple expressions cross his face, neither of which were pleased.

"They're fixating on you too much," he said seriously. "They're forgetting who they are."

She tried to keep the smile from curling her lips. "Kind of like you?"

His face opened in denial. "It's my responsibility to-"

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that, Nail," she chuckled, shaking her head.

He was speechless at her audacity. It made her wonder, yet again, how the hell Guru had made a planet full of males who seemed to be so self-aware about everything except their maleness.

Something told her she should stop teasing him, but toying with the confused, ever-serious namekian had become her favorite pastime as of late. Nail opened his mouth to argue, and she grabbed both of his calves and yanked him into the lake.

He hissed as his feet got wet, but before he could gain his balance in the sandy bottom, she slipped a foot behind his ankle and slammed him into the water. His head, shoulders and chest bobbed up to the surface, and he blinked up at her, wide-eyed and sputtering. Droplets hung off of his drooping antennae, and Axle thought that even without hair the namekian still looked disheveled.

As a matter of fact, he looked so undignified that she burst into laughter. It started out as mere chuckles, but immediately progressed into squeaking hee-haws as she clutched at her stomach and doubled over.

"You're so frivolous," he declared, nonplussed.

"And you're so serious!" she laughed back. "Relax!"

A glint in his eye was the only warning she had before it materialized into a practical joke, and before she knew it, Nail's arm had snaked out and grabbed her waist, pulling her in after him.

She yelped as she splashed down on top of him, unsure if he'd consciously or subconsciously intended for her to land there. Her braid got wet and flopped in his face like seaweed, and she pushed up off his chest enough to look at his face.

His eyes were smiling, and he blew at her loose hair strands that were tickling his cheek. "Is that what you had in mind?" he grinned, having no awareness of how much cuteness he projected in doing so.

She considered her now soaked clothes, and realized that it indeed was her fault. "Unfortunately, yes."

He frowned at her hair strands again, which continued to bob in his eyes. She would have gotten up, but his arm was fastened securely around her waist. "I can't think of anything more tedious…" he commented, more comfortable with their proximity than she was.

It took her a moment to realize he was referring to her hair, only because it seemed to be holding his interest a good deal more than he was letting on. "Tedious?" she snorted. "I'm not the one with two slugs sticking out of my forehead."

His brows raised, and a surprised chuckle escaped his lips. "You have no idea how useful antennae are."

She quirked a brow at him. "None, whatso-"

Suddenly, a great watery sound erupted from the lake, and they were immediately blanketed by an enormous shadow. Axle gasped and turned to behold the most hideously monstrous water creature that she'd ever seen.

Its globular, murky body was the size of a mountain with several fins and dangling appendages layering its sides. Its mouth was a gaping, toothy cavern while a few spare eyeballs circled around like marbles on its face. It was death. Incarnate.

"CARNIVORE!" she screamed, as she yanked Nail up with her, hurling him bodily against the cliff.

He grunted when he hit and she whipped out her gun, backing into him. Cursing the damn geographic inconvenience that trapped them with this monster, she whimpered as the thing closed in on them, literally cutting off any exit of escape.

She swore, and went to pull the trigger when a strong arm bracketed her from behind.

"Axle-"

"Let go!" She squirmed and yelped as the thing bowed over them, its gaping mouth readying itself for a meal. "It's going to kill us, Nail. Let-me-shoot-it!"

"It's harmless, Axle!" he yelled, as his grip on her wrist tightened, forcing her to drop the gun.

She might have believed him had the thing's presence not pushed all her panic buttons. She screamed and stomped at his feet. He growled, and made a series of quick clicking noises.

Then, just as quickly as it had come, the creature returned to its watery home, sending a wave that splashed up on the shore over their heads. Blinking through her soaked banks, Axle gawked breathlessly at the lake, stupefied. Had Nail not been holding her up from behind, her legs probably would have given out.

"It's gone," came a soothing voice in her ear, a catch of humor in his tone. "I sent it back."

"What the…_how_…" she panted, trying to calm her racing heart. "Who makes a pet out of the legendary sewage blob from Hell?"

A small wheezing noise sounded from behind her, making her ears twitch, and she listened with growing distraction as it crescendoed into deep, hearty guffaws. Nail was laughing, and Axle thought she'd never heard such a happy sound.

She turned in his residual embrace to see his eyes disappearing in mirth while a face-splitting smile broadened his face. A whole slew of things occurred to her right then, not the oddest of which being that his teeth were really pretty in the sunlight.

"_I don't_…" he began between breaths, his voice low and raw with laughter. "I don't…know what amuses me more; the fact that you were afraid of the most peaceful creature on Namek, or that you thought you could actually protect me from it if it really wanted to attack us."

"Making fun of me now, are you?" she reprimanded, trying to cover up how captivated she was by his lack of composure. Her remark sent him into another fit of giggles, and she couldn't hold the scowl any longer, so she dug her fingers into his ribs.

His breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened dramatically. It was childish, really, so she stopped. The effect was that it took the tease right out of him and replaced it with something much more…_primal_…

Wordlessly, Nail stared down at her, the expression from earlier frozen on his face while his eyes portrayed a world of other emotions. She had the impression that she was more aware than he was of his tightening grip on her sides, pulling her closer. The namekian had no idea what he was doing.

But she did.

_Genderless, my ass_, she thought crazily as the heat from his body penetrated their water-soaked clothing. With her heart thumping in her throat, Axle slid her hands up his chest, noticing that as she did so his breath became uneven. His gaze turned feverish.

She drew her fingers up his neck and clamped them around his ears. Then she pulled his face down and kissed him.

A small noise of surprise vibrated against her mouth, and instead of pushing her away, Nail pulled her to him. Her lips moved against his until the awkward hesitancy of the moment shifted to frenzied desperation, and she caged him against the cliff, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He gripped her sides, and she released his mouth to nip at his ear. "You like this," she purred, feeling her knees give out as he panted on her neck.

"I…don't understand…what's happening…" he said in an uneven cadence as he curled himself around her, arching her back.

She trailed little bites along his jaw and down his neck, smiling when she felt him shudder. "You're male," she breathed.

He rested his forehead on her shoulder, and ran his thumbs back and forth along the waistline of her pants. "But…Guru said-"

"Guru lied." She pulled back, kissed his heated lips and locked him in her gaze. "Etrack was able to create life," she whispered intensely, "with a female counterpart…"

A hint of coherency flashed across his glazed, heavy-lidded eyes. "How…do you know?"

"Because," she said, smiling ruefully and tracing a finger across his cheek. "I'm his granddaughter."


	6. Better to have lost in love...

**_Chapter 6_ **

Axle could almost see the psychological tumble behind Nail's eyes as they widened in comprehension. He went rigid in her arms, and she reluctantly detached herself from his frozen embrace, as the moment had ended - probably for the better, though her hormones screamed otherwise.

He blinked, and brought his hands up to his head. "Why would he not tell me?"

She sympathized with him. The alpha son. The one to replace Guru in leadership and wisdom, and his father had deliberately kept one, vital bit of information from him.

Namekians were a dual-gendered species. Not single.

Nail's face transformed into consternation, and he began to pace. "I don't understand why he wouldn't tell me!"

Axle was just beginning to comprehend the possible repercussions of her getting stranded here. And they weren't pretty. "I'm sure he had reasons, Nail," she said, wishing suddenly that she could go back and undo the kiss.

Frowning, he glanced at her and then did a double take. Then, without explanation, he strode up to her and hooked her in his arm. Axle yelped as he leapt into the air, clutching to him for dear life.

"What are you doing?" she screamed, torn between smacking him upside the head and burying her face in his chest for going so high.

"I need to speak with Guru," he replied stiffly, "And you're coming with me."

She shut her eyes as a bout of vertigo passed, and thumped his chest with her fists. "I can fly on my own!" she yelled.

"You're too slow."

"And you're too high!"

With a muttered incoherency, he dropped altitude abruptly, making her squeak with fright. When they leveled out, Axle was two seconds away from knocking his mojo up between his shoulders.

"Nail, look at me!"

"No."

Still dizzy, she growled, and clutched his jaw in her fingers, tilting it down until he angrily met her eyes. "Don't you dare make me a scapegoat for something Guru did. It's not my fault," she seethed against the peeling air friction.

His expression was unreadable, and after a moment he jerked his head back, and stared ahead. Biting back a retort, she contemplated that Nail had mastered the art of discipline in regards to every aspect of his life. Suddenly throwing libido into his controlled regimen was bound to confuse him, conflict him… His callused behavior made sense.

But no one treated Axle with disrespect. No one. "You have three seconds to put me down," she said lowly. Dangerously.

He ignored her.

She counted. Then she none-too-gently kneed him in the crotch. He gasped and spat, dropping her. She swore as the ground came up too quickly, and rolled when she hit. Stopping in a crouch, she watched as he thumped down a few yards before her, clutching at his gut.

She could hear his growl even before he stood shakily to his feet, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks in his ire. The snarl on his face almost stole her courage as he staggered towards her.

_Good going, Axle_, she berated herself. _He was already agitated from your hormonal sandblasting, and then you went and added insult to injury by physically attacking him._

She added crazily that she might want to keep her stupid mistakes to one per day. The namekian warrior was crazed.

"Get a hold of yourself, Nail!" she reprimanded, having no effect on his approaching figure whatsoever. "Nail!"

He was closing in. She was a mercenary. She'd seen what happened when violence and sex mixed, and the fanged look on his face told her she was in trouble. He leapt. She unlatched her emulsifier, aimed and fired.

It blew his leg clear off below the kneecap.

"Nnnngh GAH!" He screamed and crumpled in the grass, clutching at his thigh. His breaths came and went in snarling rasps, as feral as a rabid predator. "Axle!"

She stood over him, steeling her resolve, and aimed her gun at his other calve. "No one takes me somewhere against my will," she said evenly, feeling a lot less confident that she sounded. "I'll follow you to Guru's at a distance. If you move to attack me again, I'll gimp your ass. Understood?"

She knew he could kill her outright if he wanted to, but she counted on his better nature. Even teetering on sanity's edge, Nail seemed incapable of murder. His scowl didn't lessen, but a dim remnant of his former self flitted across his eyes, and he nodded through the pain.

"Regenerate," she said.

Grimacing, he threw his head back and roared. She winced at the wet, fleshy sound of a regenerating limb, and watched in morbid curiosity as a new blood-coated leg sprouted below his knee. After taking a moment to catch his breath, Nail stood to his feet. He wouldn't meet her eyes after that.

She hopped up into the sky after him, at a much slower pace. Watching his bowed head from behind, Axle felt an acute despair well up inside of her, recalling that mere minutes earlier he had been the most amiable, charming male she'd ever met.

And then she turned his world upside down.

* * *

.

Axle touched down after Nail in the entrance of the isolated dome on a plateau. She'd been so distracted over her conflicted feelings for him that she neglected to prepare herself for meeting Guru, himself.

Etrack had told her a few things about him; his gentle nature, his gigantism, his solitude on planet Namek after the virus… It was an image of a frightened, tormented youth. That was why, when she entered, she was taken aback by the prehistoric mound of layering flesh that peeked at her through narrowed slits.

"Guru…" she breathed.

The Father of the namekians seemed to ponder her appearance, though his range of expression was limited, as his face was weighted down by folds of skin.

Nail had neglected to make introductions as it seemed he was tongue-tied as to what accusation to make first. But there was no need. Guru was quick on the uptake.

"The alien female," he drawled out in a deep, bass whoom as he observed her. She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutinizing stare. After a moment, he continued. "I believed you to be from Rameumptum."

She swallowed. "I am."

"Hmmm…" his voice resounded against the walls of the dome. "Rameumptumites don't have ears…"

Axle held her breath as Guru sniffed the air, his massive brow creasing significantly in the center. He suddenly became alarmed, almost panicked.

"Namekian pheromones…" he stammered. "Whose blood courses through your veins, female?" The question was urgent. At her hesitation, he outright yelled. "WHOSE!"

"Etrack's!" she cried in response. She could have hit him and had the same effect. Guru flinched and rolled back. His face began to tremble, and Nail took a step forward, visibly concerned for the Father's well being.

"You must be isolated!" the imposing figure declared, spittle frothing on his wrinkled mouth. "Foolish creature. You should have told us!"

Despite his intimidating presence, she still saw Guru through Etrack's eyes; a young, abandoned namekian with more responsibility than he'd ever wanted. It made it easy for her to speak her mind. "My heritage is none of your business!"

"Your heritage is capable of bringing ruin to a perfect race!"

"An incomplete race!" she countered. "Of sexually repressed males without their natural counterparts!"

Nail's head swiveled on his neck and he gawked at her, no doubt shocked at her complete lack of respect for someone they revered as a deity.

Guru's jaw quivered in suppressed fury, speechless. Still emotionally bruised from what had happened with Nail, she decided to fill the silence.

"I was content to dwell in solitude until you could wish me off this twisted planet, remember? It was _your_ idea of awesome brilliance to send your alpha son to hound me every damned day for alien bonding!"

Nail choked. Guru fumed. And Axle turned on her heel and strode for the doorway, tossing over her shoulder, "I'll stay away from your boys, Guru. And you tell them to stay away from me." Then she faced him one last time, noticing as she did that Nail's expression had gone from angered shock to muted anguish. "But I suggest you wish back my crew and ship as soon as possible, as a handful of your prime sons have discovered what jealousy is, firsthand."

With that she hopped up into the sky, heading towards a remote grotto Nail had shown her once in the wooded area of Namek. With the confrontation over, Axle had no more defenses against the hurt in her chest, which was somehow connected to her tear ducts, and the lump in her throat.

The last time she'd felt anything close to such heartache, was when Rameumptum officials showed up on her doorstep to inform her that her mother had died.

She blinked back the water standing in her eyes. It didn't make sense.

* * *

.

Guru knew he had to calm his anxiety, or he might end up leaving this dimension a few years early. With a great shuddering breath, he forced himself to relax. The female had left. Hopefully the damage caused by her presence was minimal…isolated.

Then he saw Nail's bowed form; clenched fists, jumping jaw muscles, hissing breath…

"Nail…"

The young warrior's shoulders rose with tension at hearing his name, and it pained Guru, more than words could express, to see his alpha son so miserable.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Nail asked in a raw, accusing voice.

After a moment's hesitation, Guru decided Nail was entitled to the withheld information. All of it. "There were females before the virus," he said slowly, being hit with a sudden excruciating memory that he'd buried long ago. "My…sister…died in my arms…"

Nail looked up at that, sympathy mixed in with his angst. Guru cleared his throat, and winced at the sting in his eyes. "But I was unable to produce females," he continued mournfully, "so I kept it from you, my son. One day you may understand the love a parent…has for his children. I didn't want any of you to feel that you were flawed. Incomplete."

Instead of arguing or hurling accusations, Nail plunked down on the floor, and buried his head in his hands. The gesture was without words, but Guru felt as though he'd just disowned him.

"The repression of your desire was thinly maintained," the patriarch continued, hoping to soothe his son with information. Hoping that it could somehow replace the trust that had been tainted. "It was secure only in a world where there were no female namekian pheromones to undo it."

Nail snorted. "Well, it's undone now," he said. "Is this what you had in mind when you told me to spend time with the female, father?"

Guru winced at his son's uncharacteristic bitterness. His own drive had dissipated long ago with age, but he remembered the potency of such primal urges… "She's affected you…"

His shoulders sagged somewhat and he lifted his head, fixing his gaze on some random point in the room. "I can't stop…thinking about her."

It's what Guru had been afraid of. "And your brothers, Nail?"

His eyes widened then as though he'd just figured out a great puzzle, and he met Guru's concerned stare. "A few. At least. The-"

"Warrior brethren," Guru finished for him.

Nail nodded. "There's been a tension between the fellow mentors and I for some time."

"You all covet each others' time with the alien female…"

Nail looked ill, and nodded.

"Mmmm…" Guru ignored the pangs of guilt for having encouraged them to familiarize with her. For not meeting their visitor first to approve her involvement with his children. "When we use the dragonballs to wish back her comrades and ship, I want you to use the third wish to replace the magical threading that she has weakened in you and your brothers. To return you to how you were."

Nail clenched his eyes shut, his usual smooth face creased with sorrow lines. Guru knew that he was conflicted - knowing he needed to adhere to the logic behind Guru's directive while wanting to keep both the desire that made him whole, and the female he'd fallen in love with.

_Yes_, Guru realized. _He loves her. _Recalling the sentiment in namekians before the virus, Guru knew the look well. After all, the lad had spent every day with the alien since she arrived, enjoying her company on several levels before his body even _learned_ to enjoy her proximity.

"I'm so sorry, my son," he said, nearly weeping with the words. "In meaning well, sometimes a parent does more harm, than good. Even me."

Nail looked up at that, opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. He sighed heavily and shook his head. After several moments of indecision, he stood to his feet and walked dejectedly towards the exit.

"Nail…"

He went rigid, and turned his head only enough to see Guru out of the corner of his eye. His lips were pursed.

"She can't stay, Nail."

"I know that," he whispered, bowing his head.

"The more time you spend with her, the more difficult it will be when she goes," Guru continued, watching his reaction carefully. "But I won't stop you if you decide to be with her until then."

Words that he'd intended for reassurance only seemed to anguish his son more. After pained silence, Nail spoke without turning around. "I don't trust myself around her, Father," he said, his voice tortured. "These sensations are confusing me. They make me…irrational."

Guru sat back, alarmed. If the sudden onslaught of physical desire could overwhelm even his most disciplined of warriors, it made him realize that things could have been much much worse. He was grateful they had isolated her before there were any real altercations between his children over her presence, and wondered just how close they had come to outright war.

But Guru trusted Nail - more than the youth trusted himself. "It is your decision, son."

He could see Nail's shoulders rise and sink with each breath, and after several seconds, the conflicted warrior walked stiffly out of the dome and hopped into the sky. He hadn't even bid his father farewell.

When he was gone, Guru wept for his own short sightedness, and the pain he'd caused his alpha child. And he prayed to Porunga that the damage left in the alien's wake would somehow mend with time.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Chapter 7_**

**20 DAYS LATER**

"Where are they?" Nail asked in perplexed alarm.

The stripling warriors shrugged and shook their heads. "They never came," one of them replied. Nail took in their bewildered faces, dread forming a knot in his stomach.

He'd returned from gathering the last of the dragonballs only to find that Choda, Churet and Chik hadn't shown up to train the warrior batches as scheduled. It wasn't a good sign. Especially considering the last conversation he'd had with Choda had been far from amiable. The altercation replayed vividly in his mind.

* * *

_"You're hiding her from us." Choda's eyes were angry, hateful, jealous… _

Nail had noticed his growing animosity, but this was the first time it was given voice. Had it been any other topic, he might have been objective. But his nerves were still raw when he thought of Axle…which meant they were raw all the time.

"Guru told you," Nail reasoned, remembering the moment that the Father sat his three warrior brethren down to explain how Axle's presence had affected them. "She needs to be isolated from us."

"But you know where she is."

It was true. Unbeknownst to Axle, Nail had scouted her out the second day - another inexplicable act that he couldn't justify. He'd just needed to know where she was. It was that simple.

It was that complicated…

_Not one to lie, Nail said nothing. _

Choda's face darkened from accusatory to loathing. "So we are forbidden to mate with her but you are not? You abuse your position among us, alpha son,"_ he spat the title out as though it were something vile. _

Nail felt the muscles in his jaw jump. "Fool! I've gone nowhere near her since she was exiled. Have you listened to nothing?" He wasn't sure if his ire was due to Choda's blunt accusation, his complete disregard for Guru's directive, or the visual of anyone else being intimate with her. But it took a conscious effort not to rip his brother's tongue out and slap him in the face with it.

Choda glared suspicion at him, as though Nail's heated words were nothing more than a masquerade. His face creased in a toothy grimace. "Where is she, Nail!"

Before he thought it through, Nail had wrapped his fists in Choda's vest and slammed him against a dome wall. "Stay away from her!" he seethed, the words dripping from his lips like a thousand deaths. "Or alpha son, or no, I'll-"

"Nail…?"

He went rigid.

"What's happening?"

Nail slowly turned to see Bok the Healer gawking at him in stunned horror, as though… Well,_ Nail thought in growing panic,_ as though he'd just caught me attacking a brother out of anger for the first time in my life…

_He turned back to the snarling namekian in his clutches, whose spiteful gaze was still locked on his face. Nail released him and Choda thumped his chest in response, hurling Nail well out of his personal space. An edgy silence passed as they glared at each other, until Bok's awkward presence sobered Nail up enough to break the show down and walk away._

* * *

That had been three days ago.

And now Choda had disappeared along with Churet and Chik. Nail's vision began to narrow, his focus turning black. With a muttered apology to the unattended batch of youth, he burst into the air and headed for Axle's grotto. A reflexive prayer formed on his lips that he'd have the restraint to spare his brothers' lives if they'd gone where he thought they had…

And for what.

* * *

.

Axle threw the fattened waterfowl in the food cubby along with an assortment of edible foliage. She took a glance at the empty charge on her emulsifier, and with a disgusted curse, tossed it aside as well.

She'd taken to hunting these past twenty days in an effort to take out her aggressions and forget about Nail. It hadn't worked, and now her only real weapon was about as useful as a rock.

_Axle, you moron._

She plunked down in the corner of the grotto and stared out at the dusky horizon that bisected her view. The green sky sat on top of an aqua-painted lake; serene, peaceful, paradisiacal… Namek was a beautiful planet, and had things not taken a turn south twenty days earlier, she might have stayed…

Had Nail asked her to.

Despite the bitter note she'd left him on, she missed the gentle warrior; his awkward innocence, his stoic wisdom, his constant attentiveness and good nature. She sighed bemusedly. _The taste of his kiss, the press of his body, the passion in his eyes... Egh._

She threw her head back and closed her eyes, giving way to the daydreaming of happier days on this planet. With him. A bittersweet encounter, that. Her dearest memory and biggest regret of Namek.

And who would have thought that she had the power to turn an amiable species against each other just by being near them? _Figures_, she thought in muted bitterness, contemplating the misfit adventure that was her life. _The one people that embrace me and my background, and I'm poison to them._

An old interplanetary myth came to her mind then. She didn't recall the world from which it originated, but its theme fit her circumstance perfectly.

"Pandora's box," she muttered, patting the curve of her thigh, pointedly.

"Who's Pandora?"

The deep voice startled her out of her reverie. She gasped and sat up. Silhouetted black against the mouth of the grotto stood three spar-honed namekians. Their expressions were hidden in shadows, but their tensed muscles and twitching hands unnerved her immediately. Their stance was intimidating instead of casual, menacing instead of friendly. They seemed anxious… Predatory.

_Shit._

"How did you find me?" she asked, trying to calm her scattering nerves.

"Namek is a small place," said the other, and she recognized the voice as Choda's. That meant the two that flanked his sides were Churet and Chik.

"I thought you boys weren't allowed to play with the alien," she said, her confident tone hopefully belying her sudden anxiety.

Choda stepped forward, all trace of his former tranquility completely gone from his eyes.

"Well," his baritone voice resounded off the black slate walls in courage-sapping waves. "We grew weary of Guru playing favorites."

He was on her so quick that she barely had time to yelp before he pinned her to the jagged ground.

"And we're fed up with _you_ playing favorites," he snarled in her face.

Axle's earlier reservations left when he attacked her, giving way to her more aggressive nature. She snapped at him.

"GET. OFF. ME!" With a grunt, she flung him to the side and he smacked against the slate wall. She hopped up into a crouch and glared at Choda as he shook off the daze and staggered to his feet. Licking the blood off his lips, he smirked at her, a frenzied glint in his eye.

_Great_, she thought sickly, _He likes it rough_. She began backing up when she suddenly bumped into Churet, who had materialized right behind her, chuckling. His arms were folded stiffly across his chest, and he bore down on her with a feverish gaze.

"You're not yourselves," she said in a futile effort to reason with them. "Snap out of it!"

"The most powerful warriors of the Dragon Clan," Churet began, his jaw muscles jumping, "ought to have the same privileges as the alpha son. Don't you think?"

"What privileges?" she cried, near hysterics. "You're not making any sense!"

"You think we don't know what Guru's doing?" Choda asked as he pushed off the wall and joined Churet as they advanced on her. "Breeding females back into our species using yourself and Nail?"

She blinked. It was so ludicrous that she was rendered utterly speechless.

Chik paced the entrance like a territorial canine, his arms twitching in penned up aggression. "Our genes are no less desirable than his," he chimed, finally contributing to the persecution.

Axle pursed her lips and swallowed. Her panic was interspersed with flashes of guilt for having brought out the beasts in these otherwise peace-loving namekians.

"You're insane. All of you," she hissed, as her eyes darted from one to the other. "My presence here has tweaked your ability to reason. Don't you see that? Guru is wishing me off this planet any day-"

Her words were cut off by Choda's booming laughter. "You are the first female namekian to set foot on this planet in 500 years," he chuckled maniacally. "What makes you think the Father is going to let you leave?"

To her horror, he made a good point. But… "He said-"

"Oh, he told us that, too," Churet cut her off, visibly growing impatient. "But we're not fools. We knew Guru had unfairly reserved you for Nail."

"Stop saying that!" she hissed, and then swore as Chik clamped his arms around her from behind. Together or apart, they were all stronger than she, and her shot at talking her way out of this was miniscule. She instinctively struggled in his grasp.

"Why are you fighting us?" Chik purred in her ear. "We were friends, weren't we? You enjoyed our company."

She choked. "That's before you turned into a bunch of sex-crazed males desperate for a lay!"

Her words had no effect except to make them laugh. In her growing desperation, Axle contemplated whether or not she could infuriate them into killing her. Better that than the alternative.

With her blood thundering in her ears, she lifted her feet and dropped in Chik's grasp. When he hunched over to keep his hold, she kicked off the ground, knocking his chin up into his skull.

"Nnngh!" He let her go to nurse his wounded jaw, spitting blood out on the floor.

With the element of surprise in her favor, Axle went to jab Choda's left eye, only to have him catch her wrist. Using the momentum, she spun wildly, driving her other elbow into his face, feeling the sick rubbery crunch of busted cartilage.

Choda roared and she leapt forward, the swoosh of Churet's grabbing hands spurring her on. With her heart racing, she dodged Chik, who was now on the rebound, and gathered her ki to ascend into the air.

But it only took a moment before a white hot blast from Churet knocked her from the sky. The ground jumped up and knocked the breath from her lungs. Before she could recover, he'd caged her down, with her hands pinned above her head.

She cringed as he sniffed at her skin with a disturbing enthusiasm, and snarled in her ear.

"_Show me_," he hissed.

She swore, meeting fevered gaze. He hesitated and frowned at her. As their rabid insanity was her fault, she didn't have it in her to hate them. But she had lines. Her voice took on a hardened edge, seeking death over rape. "Kill me, Churet," she panted. "I'd rather die than be in my body when you violate it!"

Suddenly, a remnant of his former self flickered across his eyes, and he squinted at her. She could almost hear his buried conscience screaming to be heard. He eased back. She would have rejoiced for having finally reached one of them had Choda and Chik not chosen that moment to show up and spur him on.

"I think-" Choda's words were abruptly silenced as a sudden, searing ki blast lanced through his chest and out his back. He spasmed and fell to the ground, whimpering in pain.

Churet stiffened and his eyes grew wide in panic as they fixed on someone behind her. He released her wrists and got up just in time to be pitched backwards by a blurring kick to his chest. Axle muffled a cry as his hovering presence was replaced by none other than Nail.

And he was furious.

Every muscle and tendon seemed strained, as though his body were trying to contain the rage that emanated off him in a hellish aura. He was trembling, explosive, each breath a growl. Terrifying. Even to her. And she could only imagine the sobering effect it had on Chik.

Her last sex offender started backing away, his mouth quivering in unvoiced trepidation. Moans and gasps were heard from Choda and Churet's fallen forms, and Axle wondered if she'd be any better off after Nail chased them off.

Then, after another glance at the maddened warrior, she wondered if he'd even let them live.

"You had no place keeping her to yourself, Nail!" Chik cried, as though that could possibly justify his actions. As though it could possibly protect him from Nail's wrath.

Axle held her breath as the alpha son disappeared and materialized in front of the doomed warrior. One blow to the gut. That was all it took to fell him, and Churet crumpled, unconscious.

She half expected, hoped, that it would end there. That Nail's expression would release some of the tension that made his visage so murderously unfamiliar. But it didn't. He was beyond reason. She barely had time to call out as he raised his foot to crush Chik's head.

"Don't kill him!" she cried. "Please, Nail! It's not their fault."

She bit her bottom lip in anticipation of the worst as the great warrior hesitated. His hands clenched, and his ears twitched. A sick, scuffling noise was heard from Choda as he began to convulse in the background. Churet had managed to weakly raise himself up, his eyes saucer-wide.

After a taut silence, Nail lowered his foot, and instead kicked Chik's body to Churet who managed to catch him, grunting with the impact.

"Leave," he said, his voice grinding like the shifting plates of a planet's crust.

His visage horribly pained, Churet curled Chik under one arm and shakily went and heaved Choda's dying body over his opposite shoulder. Then summoning what little ki he had left, Churet ascended into the air, bobbing weakly along the air currents.

Axle winced as she got up on her feet, and toyed with the idea of running while Nail watched their departure, but figured that if the powerful namekian wanted her around, there wouldn't be much she could do about it.

After they'd disappeared over the nearest plateau, Nail's shoulders sagged an inch, and he spoke without looking at her.

"Are you alright?" he asked tautly, each word strained.

Suddenly, the skin on her back began to sting, from where Churet's blast had knocked her from the sky. And her ribs hurt from being grabbed from behind, and her wrists ached. Then the true horror of what almost happened penetrated her psyche, and she felt the tears wash the dust from her cheeks. Grateful he was too conflicted to look at her, Axle took a deep breath, and lied.

"I'm fine."

He paused, and she knew he heard the quiver in her voice. But to his credit, he forced himself to take her words for face value. "Then follow me," he said, a harsh edge still tainting his tone, "They might return after they're healed." With that, he ascended into the air and took off at a manageable speed.

Seeing reason in his words, and having no desire to be the cause of another altercation between Nail and his brethren, Axle levitated and followed.


	8. Than never to have loved at all

**_Chapter 8_**

They touched down a while later on an isolated, grassy isle with a few rock outcroppings and plenty of shade. They hadn't said a word on the way over, and not once had he looked behind him to make sure she was following. Granted, he could sense her ki, but still…

Even now, with his back to her, he went and stood rigidly at the sandy shore, folding his arms in an edgy silence. His presence unnerved her, as much as it called to her. And after the incident with his brothers…

"Nail…"

He flinched, but didn't turn around.

"Not that I don't appreciate the rescue," she began hesitantly, her voice still shaking, "but after almost getting gang-raped by your friends, I don't know how comfortable I am around namekians right now," she said, and took a deep breath. "Even you."

His ears twitched, and after a drawn out moment, he said quietly over his shoulder, "I won't touch you."

"But you don't seem…" she swallowed hard. "Stable." She envisioned him snapping any moment, and turning to finish the job. It would eradicate any of the fond memories she had of Nail, casting them in the black ominous shadow of an unforgivable crime.

His shoulders bunched up, and he spun around to face her. His once kind face was now bitter, angry, conflicted… But not lustful, she noticed in unsatisfied relief, as she still flinched under his gaze.

"I would have killed them," he seethed, his words pained, "You turned me against my own brothers, Axle! Beings that I am sworn to protect and nurture!"

Even though it was true, the accusation hurt. As though she'd done it on purpose. "I did nothing but breathe your air," she spat. "You know I never intended this,"

"If you hadn't sought to misuse the dragonballs for your own selfish needs, then-"

"Then you wouldn't have any marks on your perfect record. Yeah, I know," she snorted.

"It's more than that," he said heatedly, and then winced as though at his own body. Then he swiped at the air in a frustrated gesture. "It would have been better had you never set foot on this planet!"

She choked, feeling her hands begin to tremble. "I couldn't agree with you more, so stop berating me already!" she snapped. 

He bit back his words and pursed his lips. After a moment, he continued, taking a different approach. "I don't understand," he began, "why you didn't inform us that you were part namekian." He stared at her in offended curiosity, having no awareness of hitting a sore point dead on.

Her hands clenched in fists and she struggled to maintain her composure. She sighed heavily and shook her head. After what she'd done here, he had a right to know, didn't he?

"If you didn't have any expectations of me, then you wouldn't have been disappointed."

He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Etrack," she reluctantly began, "was a perfect being. He made the universe a better place just by existing. Honorable, wise, powerful but disciplined… He had more capacity to love than most Rameumptum mothers.

"I'd expected a planet full of Etracks when I came here," she said, her voice growing soft, "And I wasn't far off in my assumptions."

He studied her, the hard edge having disappeared from his expression.

"His blood may run through my veins, Nail, but I am no namekian."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

"And you know my mother was a leader. An enforcer of policies to benefit the greater good. She died for a cause." Axle's next words were bitter with self-loathing, and she looked at her hands in disgust. "And here I am, anyone's pawn for the right price, who has spent the greater part of her years harming more than helping my fellow species. I am a disappointment," she spat, "to both legacies."

She turned her back to him. It was all too much; the trauma of the attempted rape, her own insecurities, the conflicted but powerful feelings she felt for Guru's alpha son, who seemed to resent her very existence. "Stand guard elsewhere, Nail," she said shakily, blinking the sting away from her eyes. "It pains me to even look at you."

She listened half-heartedly for his departure, but he didn't leave. She felt the air stir behind her, and she turned to see him kneeling at her feet in seeming supplication, as close to her as he could possibly get without touching her. His head was completely bowed, his earlier animosity replaced by something else…

"And it pains me," he breathed, his tone ragged, anguished…"to be without you."

_Oh, hell_… Her heart lodged in her throat and she threw up her emotional barriers a second too late, reflexively resisting the notion that his words were as all-encompassing as they sounded. "Nail," she breathed. "It's the…_drive_ talking."

He looked up. His brows were drawn tight in the center, and his eyes glistened. "No," he said determinedly as he stood to his feet, and locked her in his gaze. He opened and closed his mouth three times before speaking. "I never thought my life was boring until I met you," he said, a rueful smile creasing his eyes. He brought a hesitant finger up and tapped the tip of her nose. "You're irreverent, you break rules," he mused, the corners of his lips lifting, "you've got the personality of a wayward ki blast…"

_Agh… Nail._ Her vision burred as he continued, bringing his finger up to her forehead, "I was addicted to your mind," he said, then dropped his wrist and pointed at her chest, "and drawn to your heart, long before I truly appreciated…" he ran his hand along the curve of her body, "this."

Losing the remainder of her reservations, she let the water in her eyes spill over, and leaned against him, hugging his waist. "Then this is truly, truly tragic," she whispered.

After a moment, he relaxed and circled his arms around her, resting his lips on her brow. Axle thought his honest embrace was possibly the warmest thing she'd ever felt.

"How long do we have?" she asked, not wanting to know the answer.

His torso expanded with a deep breath, and he sighed heavily against her skin. "The dragonballs will awaken tomorrow."

Suddenly the day she'd been waiting for was here all too soon, and a fresh set of tears rolled down her cheeks. "If it were my choice, I'd package you up and take your alpha ass with me."

A humorless chuckle escaped his lips, "And if I could keep you here without turning my entire race against each other, then you wouldn't be getting on that ship."

She laughed without mirth, and wiped her eyes on his chest. "So I guess we make the most of our time left, eh?"

He leaned back and quirked a brow at her, surprised. "The most?"

She felt the blood rush to her face. "Oh, uh…not that. I mean, I don't…I've never…" she huffed, wondering why it was so difficult to tell him something that usually trickled off her lips with ease. _It's because you want him, Axle, _she admitted to herself, _and you know you'd make an exception to the rule if your destiny ran alongside his._

Her uncharacteristic stammering cued him in on what she couldn't express, and his eyes widened dramatically. "You've never procreated?" he asked, and she had to stifle a laugh at his innocent way of automatically associating sex with creating life. It was a sweet reminder of what the act was for, the purity of his intent making her curse her own resolve.

Nail was the only male she'd ever met that would inevitably understand the power and significance of it, not cheapening the experience by downplaying it. He might even understand, instead of curse in frustration like her past flings.

"No. I haven't."

He seemed amazed, and…_relieved? _It made her wonder if he would have been jealous had she been the universe ho. At his unspoken 'Why?' she continued.

"Because it's mine," she said flatly. "I've bartered my integrity since joining up with Two Stroke, and have lost every facet of my innocence but that. Everything else has been compromised. Bought. And I'm not about to cross that line for the most excruciating what-could-have-been only to make my biggest regret of Namek more poignant," she finished, not feeling half as confident as she sounded. She added as a heartfelt afterthought, "Besides, I'd never get over you." She didn't give voice to a hunch that she never would anyway.

He pursed his lips and nodded understanding. She gaped. He'd just accepted it. No arguing, no name-calling, no futile attempts to change her mind… Just accepted it. He was too good to be real. It almost made her change her mind. She could almost hear Two Stroke's voice in the background. _Axle_, she could picture him saying, _when a four can get a ten, you make exceptions._

Had Nail pressed the issue right then, she probably would have caved. But he didn't. "Perhaps it's better that I don't know," he said sincerely. "Or else even Porunga would have a difficult time suppressing the drive in me. Memories can be a powerful thing…"

"Porunga?"

"The third wish will be to restore the binding in those of us that your female namekian pheromones broke."

The news relieved and disappointed her. It would erase any trace of her presence here. Even with Nail. Then she realized there would be no more wishing after that. She snorted, thinking about her crew's intent when they came here. "So much for retiring early with armloads of wealth."

"That was your wish?" he asked incredulously.

"My crew's," she shrugged. "The universe is a corrupt place, Nail. You take what you can get."

The thought disturbed him, but he held his tongue. His reaction amused her, and reminded her of so many other times she'd had the pleasure of shocking him with her unorthodox education, before all hell broke loose. She sighed.

_How I'll miss you, boy…_ She looked away from his face, and rested her cheek against the swell of his chest, absently tracing a finger lightly along the red-corded lining of his stomach. If only there could have been another way…

His body tensed, and he gasped convulsively. He caught her hand gently in his own and brought it to his lips. "Such small gestures," he whispered, his breath tickling her fingers, "yet I feel your touch all the way to my toes."

"Mmm…" She smiled sadly, and pulled back enough to see his face. "I heard that small gestures are what my grandmother used to seduce Etrack," she commented in forced playfulness. Axle figured that if she only had a few hours left, she wasn't going to spend it moping. "I could show you, though you might get frustrated…"

His glazed eyes widened slightly and the barest hint of a smile lit his face. He ran his fingers under the hem of her vest, lightly grazing her skin with his talons, before leaning down and touching his lips lightly against hers. "I'm sure it'll be worth it," he muffled against her mouth, kissing her.

Axle arched back in his embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving way to the bittersweet intimacy in hopes that maybe…just maybe…they could forget that their love was doomed - if only until the morrow came.

* * *

.

It didn't work. Instead of prolonging the inevitable, their heated session only made it come all too soon. Nail hadn't been surprised when Axle actually let him carry her to retrieve the dragonballs. He'd flipped upside down as he flew, with her warm body on top of him, covering his face and neck with residual kisses. But despite her actual nearness, he felt like he'd already lost her.

Wordlessly, they had landed at Guru's dome and he collected the sack of magical orbs that would take her away from him. Nail was half-tempted to drop the balls in the lake as they soared over it on the way to her ship.

When they arrived, Axle - the female who hadn't cried at the death of her shipmates, the alien who had blown his leg off without hesitation, the one whose past had made her callused beyond anything he'd ever come across - clung to him as though he were a tree in a windstorm. "I don't want to leave you!" she hissed, a small sob escaping her lips.

The ache that he'd been fighting all morning suddenly enflamed his heart, spread through his chest, up his throat and managed to make its way to his tear ducts. He clutched at her and buried his face in her hair. He would have said something reassuring, but there was nothing reassuring to say. He felt like his world was ending and wondered if Guru's passing, when it came, would even compare to the loss he now felt. This female, the cause of the biggest upheaval in his life, was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

She finally released him and he stared down at her wet green eyes, and committed every detail of her face to memory. Her lips quivered, and her gray shimmering skin glistened in the suns' light, and again, Nail marveled at how such a toughened creature could suddenly seem so soft.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "You ready?" he asked shakily, realizing that his grip on her was still firm.

"Never," she whispered, before pushing away from him and wiping her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. "But fate isn't on our side. Nor is time." She sniffed and looked away, her arms folded across her chest. She stared at the ground and kicked at some invisible rock in the dirt. "Go on."

He pursed his lips and nodded. Opening the sack, Nail emptied its contents onto the ground. Seven starry balls twinkled with a magic all of their own, pulsating with power and promise. In a voice almost too soft for the occasion, Nail chanted the dragon call.

The sky blackened immediately, and the Eternal Dragon snaked up into the sky, its massive form dwarfing the entire landscape. Porunga's serpentine head bowed and its eyes flashed as the god saw Nail.

Axle gasped, and fell back. "Holy shit!" she squeaked. "What a beast!"

The dragon growled at her unflattering summation, and Nail might have found her reaction amusing, had it not been such a dreaded occasion for the both of them.

Porunga took a deep breath. "Ask…" The god's voice thundered down and jolted his nerves. It never mattered how many times Nail saw it. The awesome presence of the Eternal Dragon always stole his breath. It took a moment to find his voice, and even longer for the words to make it past his tongue.

"Porunga, restore the alien spaceship."

He watched and Axle gawked as the polluted heap of metal was encompassed in a great, swirling aura. It trembled and shifted until it regained its original shape - sitting whole and unmolested atop Namek's soil.

"Incredible," she whispered next to him.

"Ask," bellowed the dragon again in a great bass whoom.

Nail clenched his fists and steeled his resolve. "Restore the lives of those lost in its crash."

Materializing above the ground they'd been buried under, stood Axle's three odd-looking shipmates, gaping at their bodies as though surprised to find them attached to their necks.

"Ask," cued the dragon one last time, causing the resurrected aliens to scream and collapse in fright when they saw the source of the great voice.

Nail locked stares with Axle one last time, before making the wish, trying desperately to portray with emotion that which words could not express. She clenched her teeth and shut her eyes. For the next request to work, she would need to physically distance herself from him, or else her pheromones would undermine the wish.

"Axle," he whispered, holding his hand out to her.

"Just do it," she choked. Then, with visible effort, she levitated with a hanging head and floated over to her dazed shipmates.

Forcing sound through his constricted throat, and blinking back the water standing in his eyes, Nail cried out, "Restore the repression in the namekians who were affected by the female's presence."

He hated the words the second they left his mouth, and even more so when he felt the change. He had no idea how tense his body had been until it relaxed and he stood there feeling…restrained, lacking, _incomplete._

_This is wrong,_ he thought wildly, barely noticing the crackling thunderous departure of Porunga. His head swiveled in Axle's direction, whom was none-too-gently ushering her confused comrades towards the ship, looking anywhere but at him.

_So wrong_… He stood there, battling the inner conflict. He could either abide by Guru's will as he'd always done, or go against it for the first time in his life. After several agonizing seconds of indecision, Nail acted.

One could say it was on impulse.

* * *

. 

"No wish, Two Stroke," Axle grated as she shoved the rubber-skinned captain up the ramp. "Namek is off limits, and so are its dragonballs." She used a tone he would recognize, as he knew her well. With a huff, Two Stroke shook his head and moved on, knowing it was pointless to argue.

Sprocket ambled up beside her, his mandibles clicking in incredulity. "You mean-_neh_ we came all the way here-_eh_, to-"

"Die on the way down only to be revived by its kind-hearted people!" she snapped at him, hurling him forward. Gauge slithered by then, knowing better than to say anything at all.

On reflex, she snarled at him as he passed, but that was all. Even _he_ seemed surprised that she didn't' take advantage of his proximity to strangle him.

Once up, she flattened her hand against the entrance, and rested her forehead against her knuckles. She literally had forced herself onward, battling her desire to stay with sheer stubbornness.

Unable to ignore her pull to him any longer, she turned for one last look at the most bittersweet encounter of all her life.

And he was already gone.

A small part of her was relieved, but the rest of her wanted to slump on the floor in great hiccupping sobs.

"Goodbye, Nail," she whispered. "Pity it had to end."

She turned only to be snatched from behind. Her vision spun wildly as the arms around her waist lifted her up and landed her on top of the ship. Before she could make sense of what was happening, he spun her around, grabbed her face with both hands, and kissed her.

_Nail!_

She squealed against his mouth, against the forced, frenzied lip lock. With one hand still clamped on the back of her neck, he pressed her bodily against him until it was perceptively obvious that the restraint on his desire was broken for the second time.

"What…what are you doing?" She stammered as he moved his face to her neck and kissed it as though she had a mouth there, too.

"I want to remember this," he breathed, "Your touch. How you feel. How you make me feel."

Her eyes watered, and she clutched at him desperately, losing all sense of reality from the intensity of his declaration. "Come with me, Nail. Please. Guru can find another"

The sound of shuffling feet was heard on the ramp below. "Axle!" Sprocket's voiced yanked her out of the blissful moment.

"You know I can't." Nail lifted his head, and rested his brow against hers, his eyes wet and anguished. "Never forget, Axle." With one last, deep kiss he exploded into the sky.

* * *

. 

With his heart lodged in his throat, Nail watched from a distance as the ship ignited and ascended into the air with all the calculating precision of technology. He felt like it was taking with it a piece of his soul.

Axle's scent still clung to him with determined tenacity, and he savored it, feeling as though his chest would collapse from anguish.

But at least he was whole.

Guru's inquisitive voice inevitably came, drenched with all the bleeding concern of a worried parent.

But Nail ignored the Father. If Guru, in all his wisdom, had destined him for any other calling besides the alpha son, Nail would have left Namek this day…with her.

And a small part of him couldn't help but to resent the patriarch for it.


	9. Chapter 9 - Part II

**_Chapter 9_**

**A FEW YEARS LATER (four days before the Cell Games)**

Tuning out the animated chatter of Gohan and Dende, Piccolo stared pointedly down as he stood at the edge of the Lookout. A scattering of white, feathery clouds blotched the sky below, casting livened shadows that caressed his planet's surface like a feline licking its fur. Another day, just as beautiful as the one before, and no doubt as beautiful as the one to come - the weather having no regards whatsoever for the monster that threatened earth's very existence.

Dr. Gero's brainchild. Cell. _No, worse,_ Piccolo thought morbidly.

_Perfect Cell. _And Goku was down there with Chi Chi, spending quite possibly the last days of his life - not training.

_What the hell is he thinking?_ Piccolo thought reflexively, recalling the stupidly cheerful manner in which the hero had left. But even as the words formed in his mind, he knew. He'd spent the past three years at the Son household, training, noticing…_things_…

Like how Chi Chi's every breath was spent in the service of the males in her life. How Gohan's smile was all the broader having both parents around, despite the grim circumstance of their necessity to train. Then there was the occasional moments when Goku would step out of his childish nature and discreetly lock stares with his worrying wife, portraying emotions that Piccolo had no words for, they were that strong.

_And that foreign…_

Not much escaped his observant eye, though he often wished it had. Piccolo grunted inwardly at a small ache that formed in his chest. It was the same one that had been needling at him since his exposure to Goku and Gohan's 'family life', and he wasn't about to analyze why. Really, he wasn't.

_But..._… He dug his talons into the palms of his hands, unable to stop his own dissection of his personal motives. _Who am I fighting for?_ He wondered crazily. _A planet full of people who remember nothing but the demon king? The vast majority who would sleep better at night if I were dead? _A darker, more specific memory flitted across Piccolo's mind, and he winced internally. _Blood thirsty, grinning butchers who would hack the life out of a young green scrub, all because the child looked different?_

Goku had his family, but Piccolo had no one. But then delighted, husky laughter resonated across the tiles and Piccolo looked back to see a golden-haired boy whose eyes had disappeared in his smile as he chatted with Dende.

_No_, he reminded himself forcefully. _Gohan. I have Gohan._ He forced himself to continue. _And the thin layer of camaraderie from the human fighters, and Goku. _

He would fight for them, and because it was the right thing to do.

_I don't need more._

But exactly when had he admitted that he needed anything? Or anyone? It had snuck up on him somehow, after he'd already consigned his life to solitude. As unwelcome and addictive as that disgusting smoking vice that so many earthlings had. And now he was stuck wondering if that tinge he felt was a reflection of his soul - still empty in places despite the friendships he'd reluctantly gained.

He snorted at his own ridiculous self-analysis. _This is stupid. You should be meditating, Piccolo...preparing yourself for the fight with Cell. _But unfortunately that turn of focus touched on another subject he wasn't so sure about. His own dwindling significance in light of the awesome power of the Saiyans. Would his efforts against Cell be laughable?

Was he fooling himself? _But I know nothing else_, he thought in rising anxiety. _I am nothing, if not a fighter. _

"Stop it, Piccolo," he berated himself quietly. "Your life is not missing anything, and you're still strong enough to make a difference." _Yeah. That's right. _But the tinge was still there. Frustrated, Piccolo took a step back and began to focus his ki.

Meditation obviously wasn't working, so maybe it was time to go multi-form and kick his own ass. He began to power up when a twinkle on the horizon caught his eye. Intrigued, he peered across the distance, homing in on the object.

Little Dende came running up next to him, having noticed it as well. His Kami skills were already developing. "What is it?"

"Hmm…" Piccolo squinted, and reached out with his vision. "A spaceship."

"Really?"

Piccolo nodded. "They picked a hell of a time to visit this planet."

"I wonder if we should tell them to leave. Since they have the means."

Piccolo watched the vessel as it hovered close to the ground and landed not too far off. "I'll do it." Secretly grateful for the distraction, he lifted off the platform and dropped down to the planet below to inform these strangers of the imminent holocaust.

* * *

.

They were an odd-looking bunch. Piccolo hung back behind a tree, and observed in reserved curiosity. A pink, rubber-skinned individual was barking at a humanoid insect, and a visually disturbing creature that looked for all the world like a fur-covered octopus, was ambulating about with purpose. Between them hummed a handful of blue-skinned halflings, all decked out in gaudy attire and ornate jewelry. They seemed bewildered…perhaps nervous, clutching their belongings to their chests in visible paranoia, as though afraid the nearby sparrows were going to swoop down and snatch them away.

He didn't understand their guttural, clicking language, which didn't surprise him, as he didn't recognize a single one of the species. What did surprise him, however, was that the three taller beings seemed vaguely familiar…

Before he had time to ponder which of his alter egos' memories they came from, a fourth creature stomped down the metal ramp of the ship. And his reaction to her was more than just vague.

Piccolo's heart damn near stopped.

Her gray skin, though littered with a handful of scars, shone in the sun, like …_polished stone_…which contrasted strikingly with a…_brilliant yellow, star-shaped birthmark_…around her left eye. Her hair, the…_color of oil and blood_…was braided behind her pointed, gold-hooped ears, and she was dressed in the rugged, sleeveless, black attire of hired muscle.

But despite her tall, sturdy build, she was unexpectedly…_pleasant_…to look at? He shook himself. _Huh?_ Then Piccolo suddenly experienced a key physiological reaction her presence, and he choked.

His body apparently recognized her too.

A hot flush heated his face. Whose memory _was_ this?

He could feel an elusive, but frantic activity ping-ponging about in his subconscious as one of his fused personalities grasped for purchase…awareness… _control_. Whoever it was, was being alarmingly aggressive, and the distraction caused him to unwittingly reveal his location by stumbling.

Her vibrant green eyes found him in his hiding spot, and all other conscious thoughts took a back step as their eyes met. There was such a connection between them, that Piccolo could do nothing but stand there, stupefied, as she hesitantly approached.

Of their own accord, his legs moved him out of the shadows, and a small cry escaped the female's lips. She blinked, and Piccolo had thought he'd never seen someone's eyes water up so fast.

She said something in a different language, and then brought a hand up to her mouth. "Nail?"

He would have said something, but his tongue seemed incapable of being articulate. Besides, no sooner had she said the namekian's name than she closed the distance between them and sprung at him.

Wondering why he didn't get out of the way, Piccolo caught her mid lunge, and stiffened as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face against his chest.

"They said Namek was destroyed. I was sure you were dead," she gibbered in the namekian tongue. Then she pulled back and clasped his face in both her hands, her wet, captivating eyes fraught with elated disbelief. "How the hell did you escape?"

The memories finally caught up with him, and he was floored. Axle. That was her name. Piccolo just opened his mouth and closed it in a futile effort to be responsive when all he could think about was how confusing and…heart achingly painful…it was to have someone care about him so much.

But it was a case of mistaken identity.

"Listen-" he began, but was abruptly cut off as she suddenly latched her face on to his. He grunted against the warm wetness of her mouth; shocked, overwhelmed, terrified…

Then she took the gesture a step further, and Piccolo gasped audibly through his nose as the kiss became invasive, teasing, _slippery_…and…and…

And he liked it.

_PICCOLO!_

He flinched. Suddenly his dispersed alter ego gathered his wits enough to be heard, and the fused warrior's pitch was near hysterical.

_Let me surface!_

He grunted in unease. _Nail? _

_LET ME SURFACE, DAMMIT!_ He screamed, and the sound scorched through Piccolo's consciousness like a ki blast. He grunted, and collapsed to his knees, breaking the hold she had on him.

"Nail?" she asked, hovering over him.

He held his aching head in his hands. "_Not…Nail_…" he managed, trying to control the chaos in his mind.

_NOW, Piccolo!_

"Alright!" he roared.

She leaned back, startled. "Alright, what…?"

_But don't think you can stay in control for very long, got it? _He snapped at Nail bitterly. _This is MY body, not yours. That was the deal- _

Just do it!

With a muttered curse, and great reluctance, Piccolo released his mind for Nail to take over. He tempered the growing unease and discomfort as he was swallowed back in the recesses of his own persona, struggling to maintain an awareness of what Nail was doing and saying…with _his_ body.

For the first time in his life, Piccolo had willingly given someone else control of his being. And he didn't like it.

Not one bit.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Chapter 10_**

With her blood roaring in her ears, Axle stared down at this white-caped namekian that looked in every way like the most poignant encounter of her life. He was hunched over with his hands clamped around his ears in obvious pain, his breath hissing in and out of his fangs.

Not Nail? He had to be. His face, his body, his… No. Not his expression. But… Unable to stop herself, she reached down and caressed the back of his neck, and dropped to her knees before him. She was half-tempted to beg the tormented look-alike to pretend to be him, if just for a day. She grabbed his shoulders, taking great efforts not to leap all over him again.

Suddenly he relaxed, and she watched in teary-eyed confusion as he slowly lifted his head and met her stare. This time, it was the gentle face she remembered, and a fresh set of tears rolled down her cheeks.

A small noise of relief escaped his lips and he wrapped her up in his arms, silently burying his face in her shoulder. It felt so good, she almost forgot his crazed reaction two seconds earlier.

"Nail?" she tried again, her voice shaky.

"It's me, Axle. It's me," he whispered without letting go.

She had to wait several seconds before she could trust her voice to speak. "How…what…?"

After a moment, he pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. "It's complicated," he said, his eyes creased in a paradox of anguished delight. "I fused-"

"Is this who I think it is?" came the captain's voice in Rameumptum from behind her. Nail's eyes lifted to glance unappreciatively at the intruder, and she turned her head just enough to be heard.

"Give me a moment, will ya, Two Stroke?"

"Hmph," the captain mused. "Well, I'll be. Even I don't know whether to kill the guy or kiss him. All I know is he better put you in a decent mood this time around, Axle. Moping really doesn't suit you"

"LEAVE!"

Two Stroke shuffled off, and she turned her attention back to the male who had dominated her thoughts, dead or alive, for the past four years. "You fused?" she asked, unable to stop her hand from tracing the contours of his face. "With who?"

"Did Etrack ever tell you about Piccolo?"

She nodded, still feeling as though seeing him, after so many years of thinking him dead, was surreal beyond her imagination. With great effort, she tried to stay focused on his tale. "The Great Katatsu's son. Sent to scout out planets with Etrack when the virus hit."

"Well," Nail took a deep breath and rested his forehead against hers, as though reinforcing that he wasn't dreaming by physically touching her. "Piccolo came here."

She blinked in a vague comprehension, recalling the unfamiliar expression on Nail's face earlier. "Are you trying to say"

"Piccolo split, and his darker half had a son, also named Piccolo. He showed up on our planet before Frieza destroyed it, and…we fused."

"But how did you…he…" Axle shook her head, trying to swallow the absurd concept, "_both of you_ escape?"

"Dragon wish," he answered without smiling. "Most of the brethren were resurrected and sent to a new planet."

A new, wonderful concept dawned on her. The one thing that kept them apart before…was no longer an issue. "And you're here," she said, holding her breath in a barely contained excitement.

He nodded, and smiled ruefully. "Trapped inside Piccolo's body, and buried under his persona."

She studied him. "Still a lesser obstacle to overcome than turning an entire race against each other, Nail. And you're no longer the alpha son," she stated. "I'm not leaving."

"You have to."

"The hell I do."

"You don't understand. The earth is on the verge of destruction by a creature named Cell, whose capacity for evil makes Frieza look like a novice."

She contemplated his words, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. He wasn't exaggerating. "Then come with us," she countered, lowering her voice. "We only came to drop off these embezzling groglets anyhow." She jerked her head in the direction of the blue-skinned halflings. "They're seeking refuge with some relative named Pilaf after they raped three enterprises of their wealth. Contract is over. There'll be room for you on the ship."

His face creased in shocked disapproval at her unethical involvement with such criminals. It made her laugh, and she grabbed his ears and kissed him. His eyes flew wide, and then slanted in flushed scrutiny. She pulled back, and patted his cheeks.

"Agh, Nail. I would have bartered my entire crew to see that expression again. You have no idea what you did to me," she said, reflexively wiping the water from her eyes. "Or how I've missed you."

His expression softened, and he sighed and traced a talon across her cheek. "Oh, I think I do."

The gesture sent her heart from thumping in elation to fluttering in anticipation. He was standing here before her, looking just as he had… _Wait._ She frowned at the humungous white turban and broad-shouldered cape. Without asking, she yanked them off a stunned Nail, and chucked them to the ground, more than a little surprised at their weight.

"Is dressing like a dork part of namekian DNA?" She asked incredulously. "Or is it conditioned?"

He coughed surprise. "Piccolo won't like that you did that."

"Yeah well," she slid up next to him, and pinched his waist. He flinched. "He's not going to like a lot of things I'm going to do," she grinned.

"Axle," he said, visibly shaking himself to focus through her teasing. "I can't let you die here," he said, his face pained. "Return to me after the battle, if there's a planet to return to, and we'll work something out with Piccolo"

He suddenly grimaced at something internal. She realized that Piccolo probably had something to say about that last bit, and by the look on Nail's face, he was none too pleased. But her mind was made up.

"I lost you when I left Namek. Then I lost you all over again when it was destroyed," she said. "I'd rather die, here with you than lose you a third time."

His face creased in protest, but before he could speak she spun on her heels. "Stay here."

Her comrades were watching her from a distance, and she walked up to them, nonplussed about how constricted her throat became. She'd been with the crew so long, they were like family…dysfunctional, albeit, but family nonetheless.

"So did you finally get-_teh_ things worked out-_teh _with the namekian-_neh_?" Sprocket asked innocently. She threw a strained look in his direction, and Gauge's, before locking stares with Two Stroke.

The captain knew her better than anyone in the universe, and she watched in honest regret as the jesting look froze on his face while his eyes sank. It took several seconds for the somber expression to weigh down the corners of his mouth.

"What isss it?" Gauge asked uneasily. Sprocket unfolded his arms and gawked at them both. Axle couldn't get the words past her tongue.

"You're staying here, aren't you?" Two Stroke asked seriously…quietly.

Her eyes stung and she sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, and nodded.

A brief, but potent sadness flickered across his eyes right then, but it was quickly replaced by practiced acceptance. He smiled ruefully. "I always wondered when we were going to lose you, kid."

She took a deep breath and held her hand out. Two Stroke clasped her forearm with both hands in a firm shake. "May earth be good to you, Axle. You deserve a better life than the one I gave you, anyhow."

She shook her head, and managed through the lump in her throat, "No regrets, Two Stroke."

He nodded and released her. Wordlessly, she walked up to Sprocket, and Gauge, who had caught on by now what was happening. The groglets were immersed in their own circumstance, totally oblivious to her departure from the crew.

She threw her arms around Sprocket, and kissed his bristly cheek below his bulbous compound eye. He reluctantly hugged her back, as though delaying the gesture could somehow make her change her mind.

"He better be worth it-_teh_, Axle," he buzzed, unable to hide the emotion in his voice.

She snorted, and laughed to keep from crying. "You're telling me."

She disengaged from Sprocket and slugged Gauge in one of his shoulders. "No gambling your life away in my absence, Gauge."

The swatheswrap's black oily eyes glistened, and she suddenly found herself enveloped in eight hairy appendages. "Missss you…" he managed.

She choked, feeling the water in her eyes spill over. "I'll miss you, too." When Gauge released her, she stood back and met their eyes. "If I ever get a home set up here, you're all welcome to it."

They nodded, and before she completely lost it, Axle turned and walked away from the only family she'd had for the last fifteen years. Nail stood in strained indecision, as though contemplating knocking her unconscious and forcing her crew to take her with them. He was strong enough to do it, too.

"Respect my decision, Nail," she said reproachfully. "If I choose death over living without you, then it's my call."

He pursed his lips, and shifted weight from one foot to the other. Then, with no more warning than a glint in his eye, he lunged forward and embraced her, squeezing the breath from her lungs. "It won't be easy, Axle," he said quickly.

She didn't realize what he was referring to until a moment later, when a grating sound resounded somewhere in the depths of his chest and trailed up until it erupted from his mouth in a menacing growl. He pushed her back, his visage completely changed.

_Piccolo…_

With a snarl that curled up over his fangs, and a lingering glare, the offended namekian bent down and picked up his turban and cape, replacing them on his body in bruised dignity. He might have intimidated her had she not been so practiced in dealing with his kind of temperament. She prepared herself for a battle of wills. If she showed any weakness, he'd walk all over her.

"So where to now, Captain Charisma?"

He hissed at her. "You're not coming with me," he began, his voice more menacing than Nail's was kind. "And I'm not catering to your lovesick relationship. So just get back on your ship and get the hell outta-"

His words caught in his throat as she leapt forward and slammed him against a tree. It couldn't have possibly hurt him, but it _did_ stun him. His earlier grimace softened with the onset of shock as he gaped at her.

"Not an option," she seethed. "You're stuck with me, namekian, so get used to it." Whatever reaction he had anticipated, it hadn't been that. It gave her a few extra moments to speak her peace before he regained his composure.

"Deal with my presence until Cell is defeated, and then we'll talk," she said and then smirked. "Unless you want to talk now."

His eyes narrowed and with a muttered curse, he roughly grabbed her shoulders and shoved her back. She would have caught her footing had it not been for a tree root sticking out of the ground. As it was, Axle tripped, and landed unceremoniously on her rump. She swore at him.

Apparently Nail didn't like Piccolo's treatment of her anymore than she did, because suddenly Piccolo cried out and clutched at his head in a futile defense of some mental torture her beloved was inflicting. Raspy, guttural breaths emanated from his mouth, and with a roar, he turned and punched a towering evergreen, obliterating its trunk to splinters. The thing shuddered and fell, snapping and cracking at its fellow trees on the way down. It landed with a booming, foresty crash, and the nearby blue-skinned halflings squealed in fright.

Only slightly unnerved, Axle stood to her feet. "You done?" she asked snidely. "You're scaring the groglets."

Piccolo stood there panting, his fists clenching and unclenching in fists. "You'll regret this decision," he seethed, and then with a muttered curse, he exploded into the air.

Axle took off immediately after him, having the distinct impression that, unlike Nail, Piccolo wasn't going to slow down just so she could keep up.

* * *

. 

"How did it go?" Dende asked innocently as he left Gohan to his studies and trotted behind a very agitated Piccolo.

"It's absurd," Piccolo grated as he tried to distance himself as much as possible from the side of the Lookout that Axle would be landing on any moment. "Of all the gazillion life forms that could have been on the ship, and it just so happened that the vessel brought the _one_ individual…"

"What?"

Piccolo stopped and turned on the younger namekian, unable to keep the bite out of his tone. "She woke up Nail, and now he wants his life back," he spat, the words bitter on his tongue.

Dende's eyes widened at the unexpected mention of his older brother. "Who?" he asked, more than a little perplexed.

Piccolo looked slit-eyed at the direction he'd come just as the ruffled female touched down on the tile. When she saw him, she made no effort to curb the daggered glare that narrowed her eyes. He took slight satisfaction in knowing that he'd pissed her off.

Dende followed his gaze, and his face scrunched in scrutiny, and then opened in honest surprise. "Axle," he breathed.

Piccolo tossed him a side glance, wondering how much the little guy knew about Nail's encounter with the female. She strode up to the both of them, not intimidated in the least, her gaze lingering on earth's new guardian.

"So Nail isn't the only namekian who decided to make earth his home, eh?" she said, more curious than snide.

It irked Piccolo to no end that she disregarded his presence. As though he didn't matter at all. "_Nail_ doesn't _exist_ anymore!" He barked. "So stop-"

She held her hand up to silence him, and rolled her eyes, huffing.

Piccolo choked at her audacity, too furious to make a coherent statement.

"What's your name, tenderling?" she asked the newest immigrant from Namek.

"Dende," he replied, captivated. "I remember hearing about you. Even after you left our planet, your presence was talked about often."

"Dende?" she asked, and dropped to one knee, staring him hard in the face. "I watched you hatch, scrub."

"That's what Nail said," Dende responded, and then laughed shyly as she brushed a finger against his rounded cheek.

"Well, I'll be…" she said, genuinely smiling.

Piccolo's indignation lessened as he noticed how quickly she shifted through emotions. He'd known her less than a half hour and he'd already seen anguished relief, aggressive intolerance, and now sincere delight, all in their purest forms on her visage. No wonder she had intrigued Nail.

The obstinate female was anything but boring…

"So what exactly is happening?" she asked Dende. Piccolo took advantage of her averted attention to walk away. Thanks to this whole fiasco, his own emotions were in turmoil, distracted by feelings that weren't even his.

_Thanks a lot, Nail,_ he thought bitterly, coming to the far end of the platform.

_Sorry_, came the unrepentant tone.

_Hmph_. Piccolo recalled the terrifying sensation of being buried under Nail's consciousness…the drifting ambiguity, the floating blackness of a disintegrating self-awareness, interspersed with poignant moments of panic. He was amazed that Nail had managed to pull himself together enough to be heard at all.

Let alone scorching Piccolo's mind when he'd shoved Axle. Not to mention the gall Nail had at ignoring his frantic demands to relinquish control of Piccolo's body back to its rightful owner. It must have been four times before he finally relented.

_You thought to keep me buried, you bastard._

_I needed more time…_ his voice reverberated inside his head.

_I shouldn't have given you the time you had! _He sent subliminally. _Now we're stuck with her._

He could feel Nail's uncharacteristic aggravation. An indisputable protectiveness over the alien that had disrupted both their worlds. _Try to understand- _

_We're fighting Cell in four days! I don't have the time or the care to deal with your petty romance._

_It's not petty._ The words were filled with an aggression so untypical of his alter ego.The female definitely brought it out in him. Nail wasn't himself.

_It's made you stupid, _Piccolo berated. _Weak. _

_Stop lying to yourself Piccolo,_ he countered just as spitefully_. You resent my relationship with her because you covet it._

Piccolo grimaced and bit off a swear word. _Of all the..._ He started to argue, but something stopped him. His thoughts were open to his swallowed personalities, and if Nail made that observation, then…

_Agh!_ This was getting worse and worse. _Stay silent, Nail, if you know what's good for you. You couldn't have picked a worse time to do this to me._

He felt the warrior's reluctant withdrawal from their heated conversation, and threw up what little barriers he had left. Dropping off the Lookout and plummeting to the ground below, Piccolo considered in a moment of demented rationale that he was actually looking forward to the fight with Cell - as it was probably the _only_ thing that might get his mind off of Nail's sudden emergence, and the effect this obstinate female had…

On them both.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Chapter 11_**

At the Lookout, the altitude's air currents were eerily still this night. This last night. As though the earth had finally caught on to what was happening, and in some maternal gesture attempted to calm her inhabitants with her own peace. Hence, Piccolo stared silently at the universe, the utter quiet enabling him to feel the brightness of the stars against the black sky as though they were the sun.

He sighed as his thoughts turned inward.

He had spent the past three days in some of the planet's most beautiful geographic areas…meditating. He didn't share Goku's confidence, and reluctantly admitted that they'd likely lose against Cell. The creature was that powerful. He wanted to spend his remaining time in places he enjoyed, tuning in to his inner being, distancing himself from _her_…

Granted, she'd apparently left the Lookout as well, according to Gohan. After hanging around long enough to get up to speed on what was going on, and who was who, Axle took off to explore. The alien female apparently wasn't one to just sit around.

Either way, his attempts to regain his focus were somewhat successful, since Nail managed to keep quiet during the entire time. But the end was quite possibly very near, and one could not help but to contemplate the significance of their life. And so here he was again in the final hours before the battle, his thoughts permeated with life as he knew it, and life as he never lived it, and inevitably…disturbingly…

"Coming to terms with what you might lose, big guy?" came the low, effeminate purr behind him…and for all Piccolo's composure, he couldn't stop himself from startling. He turned to see Axle scrutinizing him through mischievous green eyes, her muscled, gray arms folded across her chest. She was wearing a tailored white outfit with a lace up vest like the ones Nail had fashioned for her on Namek, with low-waisted, straight-legged pants. The ensemble was…alluring.

Something that wouldn't have caught his eye a few days ago.

"Mr. Popo made it for me," she said. When his gaze trailed back up to her face, she was in the process of giving him a pleasant smirk. A knowing one.

He grumbled, trying to cover up his embarrassment with annoyance. "I thought you were gone."

She quirked an eyebrow at his abrupt reaction. "I was."

An awkward silence fell between them, and Piccolo turned his back to her and closed his eyes, as though it could possibly make her go away. He wished she would, if only so her presence would stop triggering those insanely intimate recollections that weren't even his; like how soft her neck was right below the ear, or how warm her hips felt when they were under his hands, or the sweet tanginess of her mouth when she kissed him… Piccolo shuddered and clenched his fists.

_Damn your memories with her Nail! They're distracting me._

He felt a surge of identity collect in the shadows of his consciousness, alarmed…and…_jealous?_ Piccolo wanted to kick himself for giving his alter ego, who had behaved so well these past few days, a concept to adhere to.

Undaunted, she walked up beside him and shared his view off the Lookout, the starlight illuminating her gray skin in an ethereal, otherworldly sort of way. "Your planet is beautiful," she said quietly…reverently. "I've lined up a new employ for myself these past couple days down below, so I'd prefer it if you won."

Not that he was inclined to encourage the conversation, but… "Employ?"

She shrugged, and that was all the answer she gave him.

He shook his head and looked back out, wondering how far away her crew was by now. "You were a fool to stay."

He could see her humorless smile in the corner of his eye. "Ah, yes," she replied nonchalantly. "But a very self-aware fool, Piccolo."

He snorted. "Indeed."

Another pause passed between them before she broke it with a very invasive insight. "I first assumed that you went to spend time with loved ones these last couple days, but then your demeanor suggests that you have no loved ones, Piccolo," she said. "Has earth not been good to you?"

_Ouch._ "If you assumed that, then why did you ask me earlier if I was contemplating what I might lose?" he asked defensively.

"Perhaps it would have been better phrased, that which you never had?"

"Regrets?" he asked incredulously. "I have none."

"Right…" And she stood there in all her audacity, as comfortable in his presence as Gohan was. He felt like throwing himself off the Lookout just to get away from her. That's why it surprised him so much when he continued the conversation.

"My sire wasn't the nurturing type," he said, surprised at the bitterness in his voice over something he thought he'd come to terms with.

"I heard," she replied. "It was a pity Katatsu's son split. My grandfather knew him before the virus, and… Well, I imagine your experience here would have been much different had he been around to raise you."

The thought of anyone raising him was almost surreal. "I didn't need babysitting. Thanks to my demon king father, I came equipped with knowledge on survival," he explained, unable to stop the next words from trailing out of his mouth. "And a legacy of evil. One I had every intention of carrying out, so you'll understand if _making friends_ isn't in my nature."

Her head jerked in his direction, and with a quick side glance he thought he saw…_sadness_…in her eyes? She sighed heavily and looked her feet. "At least you had an excuse, and despite it all, here you are, a hero, protecting the earth…as noble and valiant as a god."

Piccolo blinked. _Hero? Noble? Valiant?_ They were words he'd never thought to associate with himself. He was a fighter. It's what he did…and if he fought to protect the earth, did it really make him all those things?

_Is that how people would see me if they only knew?_ An ache formed in his chest, but it was a different one this time. Instead of feeling like his lungs were collapsing, he felt like his heart was expanding.

_Amazing effect,_ he mused contemplatively. _Words… _

Axle sighed beside him and he refocused on her as she continued. "I, on the other hand, had all the love and nurturing in the universe, but that didn't stop me from turning sour," she said, her words dry, as though the emotion behind them had died long ago.

Her self-condemnation didn't sit well with him. He knew too much about her. "The manner in which Etrack and your mother were taken from you wasn't exactly subtle, Axle. Your world was shattered where mine was pieced together. You can't compare the two."

Her face scrunched as she studied him. "You know all about me, don't you?" she stated more than asked. "From Nail…"

He nodded, mutely.

"Strange," she said. "Strange to think you know me so well when we just met a few days ago."

"It's been…weird," he conceded. "_Confusing…_"

She laughed lightly at that. "Yes, I imagine it would be, coming from your angle. I bet I shocked the hell out of you when I kissed you."

A smile lifted corners of his lips. "Yes. 'Shocking' is _one_ of the reactions I had to that gesture," he said reflexively, and then felt the blood rush up to his face as he realized what he'd just said.

She exhaled in a breathy chuckle. "So you never had that restraint on sexual desire that Guru shackled all his sons with…?"

He couldn't believe the conversation was going there, and he couldn't believe that he didn't stop it. But thanks to experiences that weren't his, he felt alarmingly comfortable around the female. "No."

"So my nearness isn't wreaking havoc on your system, like it did to those poor boys on Namek…"

He snorted. _Oh, I wouldn't say that…_ He opened his mouth, then closed it, figuring it was safest not to respond to that last comment at all.

She took the hint and changed subjects. "So tell me something," she began, placing her hands on her hips and cocking her head. "Did you ever misuse that urge during your evil years?"

"No."

She seemed impressed. "Wow. A celibate tyrant," she chuckled. "Unprecedented."

"I aspired to kill Goku. Every waking moment, every dream at night, every _breath_ was spent towards that end. I had no attention span for anything else, and after training Gohan, I lost that motive, which resulted in my reluctant transition from destroyer to protector of this planet. So I never got the chance to exploit other facets of my inherited 'evilness' before I became a good guy, if that's what you were wondering."

"Yep. That was exactly what I was wondering," she said, "And if you took the time to get intimately invested since then."

His eyes widened. "Can you get any more personal?"

She grinned, the tip of her lips touching the bottom of her yellow-starred birthmark. "I could…" she said, leaving the comment open for interpretation, but after watching him squirm for a few seconds, she shrugged. "With as much as you know about me, I just thought it fair to even out the odds."

He shook his head incredulously. "I didn't seek out those memories, you know." He watched her still-smiling profile as she gazed across the curve of the planet. After a moment, he relented. "It's not like females flock to me," he said. "Besides, the few I've met are…" he shuddered, "terrifying…"

She fell into peels of laughter at his last comment, and he faced her, wondering what she found so funny. After several confusing seconds, she composed herself, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Oh, Piccolo. That was one of the most honest reactions I've ever seen," she chuckled. "Is that how you see me, too? Because I rank myself pretty high up on the intimidation scale."

"Hmph. Well I know you," then he considered her more objectively, "which almost makes it worse."

That sent her laughing again, and she leaned against him for support. Though perplexed, he couldn't deny that her giggling was contagious. Not to mention that no one had pegged him as a comedian before, and he had to admit that the effect made him feel pretty good about himself.

He held a hand out to steady her. "You're not acting very dignified," he commented, his tone lacking its usual bite.

"True," she managed in between sniggering. Then, as though in afterthought, she looked over her shoulder to the sleeping quarters where soft snoring noises emanated from. Fortunately her laughter hadn't woken them up. "That kid," she said, more subdued. "The golden-haired one. He's crazy about you."

Piccolo tried to keep the smile internal as his soul warmed at the thought of the boy, but he felt it tweak the corners of his lips anyways. "Gohan…"

"Yeah," she agreed. "So despite all your projected gruffness, it seems that someone has penetrated those barriers."

"Mmm…" Piccolo considered their current conversation. _Must not be too hard, because you're doing it right now. _

She frowned then, her mind having found another venue to pursue. "Dende. It amazes me that the little scrub was powerful enough to create a god. An Eternal Dragon. Nail said he was destined for greatness, but…" she shook her head. "Damn."

Piccolo had to agree, though he said nothing.

"What I don't get," she continued, her brows furrowed, "is why no one has come up with a wish yet that would stop Cell. I mean, can't the dragon do _something_?"

Piccolo shook his head. "He can't just wipe Cell from existence, if that's what you mean."

She pursed her lips and folded her arms again. "But there's got to be a loophole. How could a deity be powerless to stop such evil?"

"The Eternal Dragon is a mechanism for wishes, that is all. It has no alignment. Why else would it grant unrighteous requests?"

She snorted, and went quiet. Piccolo could feel her rising anxiety. She was perhaps just beginning to comprehend that tomorrow might be it. For all of them.

_No_, he reminded himself sternly. _For her and Nail._ Her affections had nothing to do with him. His gaze turned towards the heavens, and he sighed. Nail's consciousness bobbed at the edges of his mind like a predator, undoubtedly waiting for a moment of weakness to spring. His alter ego had grown alarmingly aware the past few minutes, and Piccolo had been so engrossed in conversation with Axle, that he hadn't even noticed it.

It leeched the better-than-usual mood right out of him, and it didn't help any that he could see Axle now staring at him through his peripheral vision…achingly… longingly, the starlight reflecting off the shimmering in her eyes. Again, he wondered how good it would feel to have that attention all to himself. Not meant for another, despite the fact that she was looking right at him.

"I'm not him," he grated without facing her, "so stop looking at me like that."

She exhaled deeply and looked at her feet. "You look identical," she said in a strained tone, "and it's screwing with my mind."

"Well you're screwing with mine!" he said more heatedly than he meant to, and suddenly she had his purple gi curled in her fists, her face inches from his.

"Gods, Piccolo, let him out," she whispered frantically, her earlier tranquility replaced by crazed desperation. "You can't in good conscience face tomorrow without giving us a chance to say goodbye!"

Her sudden rapid change in demeanor caught him off guard, and he stared stupidly at her honest face.

Nail perked up at that, and all too soon he joined in as well.

_Piccolo…_

He grimaced, remembering the horrible sensation and blind panic from the last time Nail took over. It was almost as bad as those insane first few months after he'd been born, having no sense of self under the weight of the Demon King's memories. "NO!" he snarled. "We face our most formidable foe tomorrow, you impetuous female! Releasing control of my body scatters my concentration. You have no idea what you're asking of me."

She shook him, and he grabbed her arms, too stunned by the plea in her face to push her off. "The world may be coming to an end. Allow us these last moments!"

"What about me?" he asked crazily. "All because I don't have _someone_ doesn't make my needs any less valid. And I _need_ to be in my body to prepare for a fight!" He felt his edge soften against his better judgment. "Besides, I can't trust him, Axle."

"Please…" she whispered, water standing in her eyes. She stared intensely at him as though to pull Nail from his mind with her gaze alone.

_I give you my word Piccolo that I'll return your body to you in time for the fight,_ Nail sent urgently.

_After hours of mental torture?_ he responded back. _Being locked in a nightmare? And how would _that_ prepare me for Cell, you narrow-minded amateur? _He snapped internally._ Get over it! It's not happening._

His face scrunched in strain as he mentally pushed at Nail, shoving him back…way back. He relaxed slightly as his swallowed persona begin to disperse…dissipate. At least he was still in control.

_PIC…COL…LO! _

The resistance faded. Nail was still there, but silenced. He'd somehow managed to lock him down. Won. And Piccolo felt terrible about it. He opened his eyes and looked apologetically down at Axle, feeling like the biggest ass in the world.

But she misinterpreted his softened look as someone else's.

Axle blinked, the tears rolling down her cheeks and she caught her bottom lip in between her teeth. There was so much emotion behind her eyes that Piccolo nearly choked, being the unintended recipient of it all. Then with an elated sob, she grabbed his face and kissed him.

His mouth responded to the lip lock, more out of reflex than intent, thanks to his alter ego's memories. The words 'I'm not Nail' were on the tip of his tongue.

But his tongue was busy.

He intended to push her away. Really, he did. But he was utterly stupefied. Her abrupt intimacy and the warmth behind it was overwhelming to his unprepared senses. It just…

felt…

…so…

… … _good……_

* * *

. 

When she kissed Piccolo, Nail was able to centralize immediately, despite the dominant namekian's efforts to keep him quiet.

_Piccolo!_

Panic coursed through his collected awareness as Piccolo's hands, instead of pushing her away, hesitantly pulled her to him. A whimpering moan trailed down to his awareness, and he didn't have to guess the effect she was having on him. He knew, first hand. If ever there was a Hell for a warrior, it was being forced to watch the female you love in another's arms.

Rage, jealousy and fear nearly pushed Nail over sanity's edge. _Don't touch her!_ He screamed. _She's mine!_

No response.

_I'll make you crazy! Do you hear me?_

That hit. He sensed Piccolo's aggravation immediately.

Suddenly, an unseen force slammed into him like the side of a mountain and he was hurled back, yet again. Only this time the onslaught didn't stop. The horror of what was happening froze his ability to project coherent words. It was Piccolo's own consciousness, given more strength to fight him, because instinct was taking over his body.

_PICCOLO!_

Swirls of nothingness licked and tugged at him, threatening to completely absorb Nail into a greater whole. He screamed and fought it, crazed beyond all rationale. But the claustrophobic vortex only became stronger.

He screamed, cried…subliminally…futilely…as Axle eased Piccolo back onto the tiles, laying atop him - the namekian's once reluctant hands now caressing and frantic…

The last thing Nail was aware of before utter blackness swallowed his soul, was that her bold actions were crossing boundaries she hadn't crossed before. Axle wasn't going to merely exploit the small gestures…

She intended to go beyond them.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Chapter 12_**

Piccolo felt himself slip under the onslaught of her advances, her intoxicating, feminine scent numbing his awareness. The way she moved against him, the way she touched him, the way she kissed his mouth…all spurred on a lapse of control in an otherwise disciplined being. He dropped his hands to her waist to push her away, but they disobeyed him completely, and clutched her to him instead. And Axle was more than just warm.

She was utterly consuming…

His lids fluttered as she nipped at his neck, and his eyes rolled back with his conscience. Thoughts of _'This is wrong. I have to stop her' _were gradually, disturbingly replaced by much darker sentiments, 

She wants me. I have every right to experience this. I am entitled to take it.

Startled, he blinked, and tried to focus through her touch. But the reasoning continued, sounding unexpectedly dangerous…heady…_rational…_

_I was destined for greatness. Those weaker succumb before me. The female is fortunate to have found my favor._

_I am the Demon King._

Piccolo opened his eyes, or rather, he tried to but they wouldn't obey him. _Can't be…_

He tried to extract himself from her embrace, but instead his body ignored him. Panic cascaded over him like an electrifying waterfall as he realized what was happening.

The transition from evil to good had never been easy, so Piccolo had stuck to the basics - saving the earth. That was the right thing to do. Simple. Black and white. Cut and dry.

But years of vicious and malevolent conditioning that began long before he was even born, were still there - gray areas that weren't so easily mastered. Like social graces, sympathy, intimacies… Still too often, he was prone to violence. It's why he avoided people. He couldn't trust himself to be nice. Piccolo, the repentant villain was still a monster in too many ways.

He wasn't mean out of habit.

He was mean out of nature, and Axle's advances had just triggered his tightly suppressed baser disposition. And coupled with his father's memories, it now had its own sinister personality.

_Oh shit…_

An ambiguous sensation not unlike when Nail had taken control of his body swamped him, and he was swept away in indecision. There were _no_ moments of clarity, only intoxicating levels of arousal interspersed with rallying declarations of who he really was…friend or demon.

And inevitably, with all the backing of this heated encounter, the demon was winning.

Holding onto his spirit of discernment, Piccolo fought it. But it turned out that his darker nature wasn't the only thing he needed to battle in that moment.

_Don't touch her!_ Came Nail's frenzied scream as the warrior broke through the repression. _She's mine!_

Whatever hold he had, he lost it, and once again began to fade. _Shut up, Nail!_ He sent frantically, as he scrambled for purchase. _Shut the hell up!_

But Nail continued to thrash his awareness with a crazed anxiety, scattering his persona while the demon took over his body. _I'll make you crazy! Do you hear me?_

Piccolo's consciousness flickered like a candle, and it terrified him. _You fool! If you do this to me now, then she'll really be in trouble! _

But Nail was too far gone to hear his words, for the last ones would have surely stopped him. Instead he continued the hounding.

_PICCOLO!_

Unable to fight his darker self _and_ Nail, Piccolo did the only thing he could do. He abandoned his attempt to regain himself momentarily and attacked Nail's maddened consciousness head on.

_NO!_ came the discouraged plea, but Piccolo hurled all his conscious weight at the spastic warrior. His sanity was in the balance, along with Axle's virtue. And Nail was understandably beyond reason.

It was a struggle, interrupted with an enraptured cognizance of what Axle was doing with his body. The turban came off. The cape. She'd laid him back, her full weight atop him, tugging at his clothes. And the demon moved with her, responding, encouraging... The sensations were getting so euphoric that Piccolo wondered why the hell he was fighting it.

But that small part of him that said 'no' pushed him through the motions, and Piccolo stomped at Nail, squishing him under his mental force. And finally, _finally_, the warrior dissipated…

To nothing…

He felt the void where Nail had been leech at his spirit like a great black hole. Instead of feeling more focused…stronger…he felt vacuous…weak… He would have wept had his eyes been his own. _Nail… What have I done…?_ An audible moan startled him out of his fishtailing guilt, along with the assault of fevered inclinations that he much rather go along with than deny.

Axle ripped the 'V' of his shirt all the way down to his waist and slipped her hands inside to caress his chest. He damn near lost his hold.

_You don't need to stop, Piccolo,_ the Demon King purred in a strangled tone meant to be subtle. _Good or evil, you want thissss…_

_But it isn't right…_ he countered reflexively, finding sudden strength in the words. _It's not right!_ Then, more forcefully, _I denounce you! You're not who I am!_

Gathering what was left of himself, he flung his conscious energies at the seedy instincts and conditioned evil, denying them place in the forefront of his mind. Then with a strength born of desperation, he cried out and drove through his wavering malevolence, shattering it. The fragments of his darker self were dispersed…but still there.

As a matter of fact, this whole ordeal had given his baser nature alarming strength and it lingered, more comfortable and natural in his skin than the person he'd become.

But despite it all, the fog in his mind cleared, and his better half regained control of his body - barely - just as his hands were fumbling to undo the laces of her vest.

"Axle," he choked, and with great effort moved his hands to her shoulders, lifting her off him. Her heavy-lidded eyes fixed on him, her cheeks still flushed. She frowned.

Panting, he lifted his head and locked stares with her. He opened his mouth, but the words couldn't make it past his constricted throat.

She sat back, and he grunted with her shift in weight. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him, and after several moments of strained silence, they widened in horrified comprehension.

"Piccolo…" she whispered, the color draining from her face. He pursed his lips and nodded. A small whimper escaped her lips and she fell on his chest, thumping his ribs softly with her fists.

"Why?" she hissed. "How could you do that to him?"

Still doing battle with the demon, and very aware of her touch, he let his head fall back on the cold tile and clamped a hand wearily over his eyes. "Leave me," he breathed. _Don't go. _"Hurry." _Stay. _

She sat back up, her visage abruptly furious with betrayal. Again, he was amazed at how quickly she shifted through emotions. "You selfish, opportunistic _bastard_…" she dropped into a different language at this point, sputtering and fuming. Piccolo could only assume her words were expletives.

And for some demented reason, it turned him on. He caught her mid rant and rolled her underneath him, holding his mouth to her ear. "Go," he breathed, taking a sick delight in her immediate rigidity. "Now."

Her breath caught in her throat, and he could almost hear her gut twisting in knots at his sudden change in demeanor. Quick on the uptake, Axle recoiled from him.

_Oh yes_, he sent silently. _You'd be wise to fear me._

"Get off me," she said.

With one last inhalation of her scent, he ambled to the side and she flipped to her feet and backed away from him. He held his breath for the three seconds it took her to assess his capacity for danger, and forced himself to look down at the tile as she trotted away, the soft patter of her running footsteps notifying him of her departure.

She disappeared into one of the domes, and Piccolo was left alone out on the Lookout. He had hoped her absence would alleviate his inner struggle. He had counted on it. But the Demon King would not so easily be ignored.

His vision turned red, reminiscent of blood once shed…promising blood yet spilt. The air whistled in and out of his clenched teeth, and he curled into a ball, trying to suppress the malevolent awareness that was probing at his mind like a taunt. The malignant personality decided to don his father's loathsome, gravelly voice. And it resounded in his head like deep reverberating death sentence.

_You've been fooling yourself, boy. This isn't who you are._

Piccolo gasped at the potency of his words. "I worked so hard to control you," he growled at his darker self in between great guttural breaths. "How can you be so strong after all this time?"

_You can't negate your heritage, son. You can't forswear your destiny._

The words sounded so wrong, but he couldn't deny the logic behind them. It felt as though someone were ripping his soul in half. Had these past years truly been in vain? Had he really invested so much effort into becoming a person he couldn't be? He looked at his hands, which were oscillating in inches, and he clenched them tight, the denial on his lips.

"You're wrong!" he spat. "I'm no longer your pawn."

_There must needs be opposition in all things. YOU are that opposition. That balance. It is your place. To fight structure._ His voice took on a more sinister tone. _To take what you want from those weaker…_

He dug his talons into the crunching tile as his darker self replayed for him the intimate details of his past few minutes with Axle with relentless clarity.

He shuddered, trying to fight his body's automatic response. "I won't harm her!"

_Return…_

"Never!"

He stood shakily, great rasping breaths hunching his form. In a last ditch effort to redefine who he'd become, to realize that his life wasn't one big lie, he grasped onto the one concept that he couldn't deny. The single absolute in his world of chaos. Something that required live action over psychological battles.

Saving the earth. Black and white. The right thing to do. Now. This very second.

Holding onto his train of thought with desperate tenacity, Piccolo powered up and shot off the platform in a death plunge, heading as fast as his elevated speed would carry him. Straight towards Cell.

So crazed was he, that Piccolo barely noticed the cooler-than-usual sensation of the wind on his face as it dried the wet lines on his cheeks.

So crazed was he, that Piccolo barely cared.

* * *

. 

Gohan sat bolt upright in bed. He looked around the darkened room with his blood roaring in his ears, trying to pinpoint what had woken him. And then he homed in on the distancing ki… Or rather, the distancing, powered-up ki.

_Piccolo…_

He scrambled to his feet and ran to the door only to find the alien female cowered down with her arms wrapped around her knees. She looked up at him, and his first reaction was that it looked almost unnatural to see such a sturdy creature cry.

At his unasked question, she exhaled a shuddering breath and spoke. "I thought he was Nail," she choked, her voice ragged. "And it…broke him."

Gohan didn't understand her words, but he didn't care to. Piccolo was in trouble. That was enough. Still in his pajamas, he jetted for the edge of the Lookout and burst off in the direction of his first, and truest friend, shifting through the levels of transformation as quickly as his body would allow.

* * *

. 

Several other individuals were alerted at the sudden, immense power up, not the slowest of which being Goku. His eyes flung open in the darkness, absently aware of the raven-haired vixen curled against his chest. His heart was palpitating in his ears, and it only took a moment to pinpoint the surge of energy as Piccolo.

And he was heading towards Cell.

With a quick pained look at his sleeping Chi Chi, he quietly extracted himself from her arms and hastily dressed. Then, utilizing quite possibly the most useful technique he'd ever learned, he held his fingers to his forehead, and transmitted himself to where Piccolo was.

* * *

. 

Goku materialized right in front of the speeding namekian, and grunted with the impact as Piccolo barreled right into him. With a growl, he flung Goku aside and pushed through.

"Piccolo!"

The warrior only shrank in his sight as he put alarming amounts of distance between them in such a short amount of time. Goku had to power up considerably to catch him, and when he did, he had to bracket the namekian from behind, pinning his arms to his sides. Piccolo roared and twisted in his grip like a cat in a bath.

"Piccolo! Settle down!" He cried, and noticed as Piccolo turned his head that his eyes were blitzed…frantic…desperate.

"Release me, Goku!"

"You can't fight him alone! You'll die!"

He tried to slam Gokus' face with the back of his head, but Goku was quicker than that and dodged it.

"…MY…CHOICE!"

Goku tightened his grip as his heart lodged in his throat. He hadn't anticipated that one of his comrades would lose it right before the battle. And the fact that it was Piccolo was unnerving indeed.

"What's gotten into you!"

Piccolo laughed maniacally at that, and it reminded the Saiyan disturbingly of the Demon King right before Goku killed him.

"What's gotten into me?" he barked incredulously. "Nail! Kami! My father! Take your pick."

Dread started to weigh Goku down. Whatever was wrong with his ally was nothing mild. "Come on, Pic. Get a hold of yourself."

"Which one?" His crazed grin turned into a grimace, and Piccolo turned back around, but not before Goku caught the shimmering in his eyes. "Let me go."

"Not until you come to your senses," he said sternly. "We had a plan."

"Does it make a difference?" the warrior asked, his voice suddenly very haggard…weary… "Whether I die now, or later?"

"We're not going to lose!"

"But I _want_ to lose!" he countered, the words making Goku feel like his gut had just dropped out. Piccolo's voice caught, and his next words were strained. "Better to die as myself than live as an imposter."

The raw emotion emanating from his most stoic of friends was almost suffocating. Goku had no idea what to say to that. None at all. That's why he was so immensely grateful to feel another presence stop abruptly behind him - of the one individual that might make a difference in Piccolo's unsettling resolve.

"Piccolo…?" came Gohan's timid voice, and Piccolo's ears twitched at the sound. Goku felt him relax in his grip, and he immediately dropped them both to the ground, with Gohan en tow.

His earlier aggression spent, Piccolo sank to his hands and knees when they landed, with his head hanging between trembling shoulders. He looked awful. Swallowing his concern and confusion, Goku took a step back and let his son try to console the green warrior. He'd seen their bond, and considered it par with his own. He bit down on his lip as Gohan knelt before the traumatized namekian, placing a small, comforting hand on his arm.

_Come on, Gohan, _he urged silently as his saddened eyes rested on Piccolo's back. _Reach him. _

Piccolo flinched at the gesture and looked up briefly to see Gohan's worried face. Then he released a shuddering breath and buried his head in his hands. "Gohan…" he muffled in the dirt "I…I don't know who I am anymore…"

Goku held his tongue and watched as Gohan's hand tightened on Piccolo's arm, his brow furrowing with sympathy. "I know who you are," he began, his small, honest voice penetrating even Goku's oblivious nature. "You're Piccolo."

Silence followed. Goku blinked. Could it possibly be that simple?

Piccolo lifted his head and looked openly at Gohan as if he'd just handed him the most precious gift in the universe. Then the namekian did something totally unexpected.

He hugged the boy.

Goku felt an odd, tingling expansion in his chest, reminiscent of what he felt the day Gohan was born, as he watched his former enemy embrace his only son as though the youth were more precious to him than breath.

Gohan's eyes glistened and he patted the large warrior's back awkwardly. Goku still had no idea what had been ailing Piccolo, but Gohan had fixed him. Just like that. His vision began to blur. Alarmed, Goku blinked, and it cleared. _Well no wonder,_ he thought, bewildered. _There was water standing in my eyes…_


	13. Chapter 13

**_Chapter 13_**

It hurt.

From the tips of his toes to the bulbs of his antennae, it hurt. But he couldn't let go of the boy, because _with_ that hurt came something much more precious and vital. His identity.

_You're Piccolo._

Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

That simple statement, from Gohan, had landed on his ears and proceeded to permeate every fiber of his being. It managed to burn away the dizzying haze that clouded his sanity with a collage of personalities, and snatched the right one from the tangle.

Just two words.

And now, he clutched to his pupil, overwhelmed by some powerful sentiment that made him want to both weep, and power up to the heavens - a soul-aching emotion that some distant place in his now-clear mind associated with gratitude. But the only thing he was truly cognizant of, as his face was buried against a shoulder no wider than his cheekbone, was how such a small person could make him feel so significant. So essential.

So…_loved._

His throat was constricted, so he couldn't say it. His thoughts were on fire, so he couldn't send it telepathically. The two words that needed to be said back…

_Thank you…_

And he didn't get the chance, either.

A malevolent presence slammed into his back, nearly winding him with its intensity. He knew who it was before he even disentangled himself from the healing embrace. And Goku voiced its name with uncharacteristic venom.

"Cell…"

Piccolo and Gohan turned to see the green, sculpted monster standing there in parade rest, a sinister smirk splitting his perfect face.

"Well, well, well," he goaded in that deceptively well-mannered voice. "Now wasn't that a touching scene." Cell brought his arms up and folded them mockingly, taking immense enjoyment in having caught them in a tender moment.

In the midst of a surging rage that was all his own, Piccolo felt violated. Violated that such a cataclysmic moment of his life had been shared with such a despicable creature. His jaw clenched in forced restraint as he tried to temper his knee-jerk reaction, which was to power up and fling himself at the monster.

Cell's gaze landed on him. "Piccolo's ki signature suggested he was coming to fight early, and I have to admit, I was looking forward to it," he chimed melodiously, with all the confidence of an individual who had bought into their own superiority. Then he eyed Goku, and flicked a glance at Gohan. "But it looks like you two changed his mind."

Piccolo stood, his hands balled in fists, and his pupils shrinking to pinpricks in his ire. "I'll fight you now or later," he said heatedly. "Makes no difference to me."

"Yeah!" Gohan challenged, falling in step beside him. Piccolo felt a moment's reservation for Gohan putting his life on the line. But it was what he and Goku had trained him for. Besides, it wasn't like either of them could get the boy to leave now anyways.

He noticed Goku looking at him, and they locked stares silently. Piccolo gave a subtle nod of his head, and Goku pursed his lips in acknowledgement. Then he glared death at Cell.

"So we fight now," the full-blooded Saiyan stated, drawing the menace's penetrating attention. "But I'm first."

* * *

.

She'd made him crazy. Axle wasn't sure how, but she recognized a split personality when she saw one. And whatever efforts Piccolo had made at holding it together were indisputably undermined by her impetuous, desperate, hormonal attack.

And right before the biggest fight of his life, too. She wondered what state young Gohan had found him in, and if the warrior was salvageable.

_Axle, you selfish she-beast, _she berated herself heatedly. _You should have waited, and made sure he was Nail. Or smarter yet, you should have left him the hell alone._ She swallowed the lump in her throat.

_I've done nothing but harm, here._

Axle's session of mental self-flogging was abruptly interrupted when Dende came rushing past her with a wide-eyed, terrified expression. Even in the dark, she could make it out.

"Dende?"

He stopped reflexively, but didn't turn around, his eyes fixed on the black horizon. "They've started," he choked, his dread nearly tangible.

She uncurled herself from the floor and walked up to him. "What?"

"Goku is fighting Cell."

Her stomach dropped out. "Are you sure?"

He nodded weakly, and ran out to the edge of the Lookout. She followed and watched as the tenderling peered over the drop, with more lines of worry on his rounded face than _any_ child should have.

"I…I can't see them!" he said, nearly in tears. "Piccolo taught me, but I…"

Axle knelt down beside him and put an arm around Dende's shoulders, his anxiety making her forget about her own. "Relax, scrub. Calm your mind, and then see."

He bit his bottom lip, as though to keep it from quivering and inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. He closed his eyes when he exhaled. It took a moment, and she felt his shoulders lose their rigidity. His lids fluttered open, and he squinted down at the earth below.

His breath caught in his throat. "There…"

Axle would have given two of her limbs to see with a guardian's eyes in that moment. "What's happening?"

"Goku's fighting him, and…and he's so…" his face scrunched in disbelief, "_confident…_."

"Who's there with him?"

"Piccolo and Gohan."

She winced at Piccolo's name. "Piccolo? Is he…himself?"

Dende broke his concentration to toss her a perplexed glance. She shrugged. He looked back, narrowed his eyes in scrutiny and then nodded. Axle felt a weight lift off her conscience, only to have it fall right back on when she made the connection. This premature fight was indirectly her fault. In his crazed state, Piccolo had sought out Cell. She was sure of it.

Dende's eyelids fluttered, and his mouth shaped an 'o'. "Trunks and Vegeta just got there," he said. "And Tien, Krillin, and Yamcha aren't far off."

Axle decided to hold her tongue. As hard as it was, she kept her comments to herself and let the young guardian focus. She figured that any pertinent news would be voiced, whether she asked or not. Dende had enough trouble concentrating, and she didn't need to add to his humungous burden by pestering him for every detail.

So she watched in an almost maternal concern as his tiny hands trembled and his eyes reddened with irritation from forgetting to blink. The longest stretch of a short amount of time passed, and then, just as she'd assumed, Dende cried out.

"He quit! Goku stepped down!"

The hero everyone counted on? It didn't sound right… Then as if the expression on Dende's face wasn't stunned enough, he coughed honest surprise.

"It can't be…"

"What?"

"Goku. He's making Gohan fight."

"WHAT?" she screamed. "His prepubescent SON?"

Dende nodded grimly. Axle fell back on her butt, and gawked at the little guy. A visual of that sweet-natured boy getting bloodied and broken by such a monster made her stomach churn. Then she noticed the horribly pained look on young Dende's face, and she suddenly wanted to strangle someone.

_What kind of SICK planet is this, to put innocent children in the self-sacrificing roles of Savior and God? _

Another silence fell, and Axle's heartbeat thumped in her ears as she struggled to swallow the latest disturbing news. Dende's next exclamation came all too soon, and not soon enough.

"Ah! Cell just regurgitated one of the androids!" he choked. "Gohan's…winning!"

She blinked. Was it possible?

"He's unbelievably…powerful," Dende said, and for the first time a shocked smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "I can't believe-" The smile came right off. "Oh no…"

That was Axle's cue for a 'What's happening?' but instead she inched closer to the edge of the platform in a pointless effort to share the same vision as Dende. Then, without warning, the little namekian plowed into her and clutched at her torso like the tenderling he was.

Axle would have been relieved to see him finally act his age, had his sudden lack of composure not been so damned unnerving. She hugged him to her, feeling a brand new strand of nervousness course through her veins. "What is it, scrub? What is it?"

He whimpered. "Cell's going to self-destruct!" he cried and buried his face in her vest. "It'll destroy the whole planet!"

Dread formed a knot in her stomach that corded its way up her esophagus and clamped down her throat. "Keep watching," she urged for no other reason than it was the only thing they _could_ do.

Without letting go of her, Dende turned his head just enough to look over his shoulder at the deciding moment of earth's fate. His trembling stopped abruptly as he stiffened in her arms. A quick gasp of breath was her second clue that some momentous turn of events had just occurred.

"He's…gone…" he said, and pulled his teary eyes away from the scene below to peer up at Axle. "Goku transmitted him before he could blow up. He sacrificed himself."

Goku and Cell. Gone. Just like that.

* * *

.

A cricket chirped in the background, but its song was overpowered by the sobs of an eleven-year old boy. Piccolo didn't realize that he'd been holding his breath until his chest began to hurt.

_Goku…_

"I should have killed him," Gohan sputtered in between hiccups, and his ki started to flare, "WHEN…" It radiated and swirled dangerously. "I. HAD. THE…" His energy exploded around him in a tangible bass whoom. "CHAAAANNNCE!"

Piccolo, along with the others were flung way back. He powered up for purchase, and held against the onslaught, feeling as though the waves were going to rip the skin right off his bones. He tried to peer through the gust, but his eyes couldn't withstand the torrent.

Then it stopped. Abruptly, suddenly stopped. Piccolo tumbled forward in the air having no more resistance to push against, and when he righted himself, what he saw snatched the breath from his lungs.

Gohan. Doubled over, rolling in the dirt, clutching at a bloodied chest. And before him, with all the cocky malevolence of an unbeatable villain, stood Cell. Untouched.

_No…!_

* * *

.

"What do you mean he's back!"

Dende's cherubic face had paled considerably, and he looked for all the world like he was about to vomit. "And he hurt Gohan."

"SHIT!" Axle spun up on her feet and began to pace, not even wanting to think about how he'd returned from the dead. "There has to be something…a loophole…some leverage the Eternal Dragon has over such a destructive creature."

"He can't kill him-"

"I KNOW that," she snapped. "But what about relocating him to another dimension-"

"Cell can refuse to go."

"And stripping him of his power?"

Dende shook his head. "Can't. For the same reason that Shenlong can't kill him. The Dragon can't take strength away from a healthy being."

"Well then what good is the damned, enormous slug!"

Dende cowered at the timbre of her voice, but at least he was distracted from the end of the world. "Maybe it can forge something that can kill him," she muttered. "Some weapon…"

Weapon. Her mind trailed to the emulsifier she used to pack around until Namek, where she'd unwittingly left it. The very weapon that disintegrated the head of a being as powerful as Etrack, not to mention all the destructive uses she'd found for it as a mercenary.

"Can the dragon create?"

Dende blinked. "Not from nothing. He can restore, relocate, organize-"

"Organize," she breathed, as the idea formulated in her head. What could they possibly have to lose? "Dende, summon the Eternal Dragon."

* * *

.

"You don't really believe you'll be able to stop me, do you?" Cell laughed at Piccolo and Krillin as they stood braced over Gohan's groaning form. Vegeta hovered back while Trunks, Tien, and Yamcha stepped forward with their hands clenched.

Piccolo was beyond hearing, and he quaked with a rage that bubbled up his throat and exploded out of his mouth in a roaring blast. Cell deflected it with ease, and smirked.

"As I was saying-" the monster began, only to stop mid-speech as the sky suddenly went black.

* * *

.

"Organize an emulsifier capable of destroying evil!" Dende asked, amazingly comfortable in the presence of the monstrous snake. Axle nodded at their precise wording, hoping that if they left it generic enough, the dragon wouldn't be bound by its ridiculous restrictions. The few seconds until its booming, thunderous response stretched unbearably.

"IT IS DONE."

Dende dismissed Shenlong, and with a great crackle it absorbed back into the dragonballs, awaiting the second wish.

Axle blinked. "Where the hell is my damn artillery?" she asked, looking around. "My destroyer-of-Cell weapon?"

Dende shrugged and scanned the Lookout. "It must be somewhere…"

A soft cry sounded behind them, and she and Dende spun around. Axle's first thought as her jaw dropped to the floor was that someone needed to put clothes on that frightened, naked creature.

Her second thought was that she should have been more specific about the type of emulsifier they requested.

"Well," she huffed in stunned disbelief. "So much for a gun."

* * *

.

Piccolo lifted himself weakly off the ground and looked at his fallen comrades. Yamcha, Krillin and Tien were all in various states of agony nearby. Cell had taken an extra interest in the Saiyans, and was currently smacking Vegeta around. Trunks was already unconscious.

Gohan was still out of commission, which both relieved and pained Piccolo. It pained him that he was so wounded, and relieved him because Cell had stopped taking interest in the half-Saiyan as a result.

_Gohan…_ He knew it was pointless - that Dr. Gero's monster would kill them all in moments, anyhow - but Piccolo couldn't stop himself from inching over to the crumpled boy, and wrapping him protectively in his arms. Gohan convulsed lightly, and his clenched eyes fluttered open, and looked painstakingly at Piccolo. The hole in his chest had no doubt pierced a lung, and he opened his mouth to speak, but only blood came out.

"Don't try to speak, kid," Piccolo forced through his constricted throat. "You did what you could." He wanted to add, _It's not your fault_, but a sudden distant noise penetrated his ears.

It was a wail. A screech. And it ricocheted all the way to his toes, as bone-chilling and eerie as a harpy's lament.

Piccolo wasn't the only one that heard it, either. Vegeta was dropped in the dirt like a marionette with the strings cut as Cell jolted at the sound. A shared vibe of 'What is that?' rallied between them, followed by sudden gasps as the thing came into view.

Screaming over the landscape like a wayward comet was an object of white fire, radiating brightness like the sun. It closed in fast. Too fast. And with it came that unbearable cry. Piccolo grunted, and foregoing his own sensitive hearing, clamped his hands protectively over Gohan's ears.

It swooshed down and hovered menacingly before Cell, its cry lowering in scale and decibel to a rumbling growl. Through the light, Piccolo could see nothing but a blurred humanoid shape inside its aura like an un-hatched bird. The only distinguishable feature was a pair of vibrant, penetrating violet eyes that peered through the blinding haze. And they were locked on Cell.

In a moment of bewildered terror, Piccolo found himself grateful that he was one of the good guys. The being was truly frightening. Even Cell suffered from a lapse of composure.

"Who…what are you!" He cried out, his earlier eloquence gone.

Piccolo wondered the same thing.

It bobbed in the air, as though taking delight in Cell's discomfort, saying nothing. Nothing at all.

Gohan moved in Piccolo's arms, and he looked down to see that he had opened his eyes and was gawking at the newcomer in blatant confusion, interspersed with his agony.

When he looked back up, with no more warning than a flicker of its eyes, the thing's wail crescendoed back up to its terrifying pitch and it lunged at Cell, latching onto his body.

In a panic, Cell tried to disentangle himself, but it was too late. He began to twitch and yelp as its light consumed him, and it wasn't long before his own screams joined that of his persecutor's.

It swirled and expanded, swallowing the villain completely, and Piccolo half-turned to shield Gohan from it, unable to bear its intensity. Great gurgling noises began to emanate from the scene, and then, just as quickly as it brightened, the radiance dimmed. Piccolo turned back, his eyes unable to widen any further. "I…I don't believe it…"

Simmering where Cell used to be was a puddle of frothy slime, oozing into the soil like a slippery poison. And looming over it, with the all the savage righteousness of an Angel of Death, stood…a girl.

Her appearance was almost as overwhelming…as surreal as Cell's abrupt demise. A mane of white, snowy hair billowed about her tall, lithe frame like an ivory aura - and her smooth skin consisted of a glossy opaqueness that was more reminiscent of a seashell or arctic sky than actual flesh. And the violet hue of her too-large eyes seemed crystalline, as though her irises were nothing but diamond prisms to catch light. It was like someone had snatched her out of the heavens, or the depths of the sea.

_Or both._

Piccolo then realized that she wore namekian clothing, much like the kind that Nail had fashioned for Axle once upon a time, with pants and a laced up vest, the material modified to match the bluish purple of her eyes… It didn't take long for him to make the connection. Dende had sent her, and in all probability had wished her into existence to stop Cell. How, he had no idea.

_Unbelievable…_

Everyone was speechless, save for a soft groan from Trunks, who had managed to return to consciousness after the fact. He sat up groggily, and winced, holding his head. Then, as though he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be dead, straightened and looked around frantically, his perplexed gaze bouncing between his fallen comrades.

_Oh yes_, Piccolo thought in wholly inadequate words. _We're all here, boy. And no less stupefied than you._

Then he saw her, and after a drawn out moment of gawking, he blurted out what was on everyone's mind. "Who's that? What happened? Wh-where's Cell!"

Krillin huffed. "We don't know. We're not exactly sure. And we think he's dead."

The girl perked at their voices, and lifted her gaze from Cell's remains to her stunned audience. And for all her previous intimidation, the effeminate creature nearly bent over herself in a cower when she saw them. Her feathery brows raised in the center in obvious distress, and her expression became nervous, afraid. The destroyer of Cell, the Savior of the planet…

…portrayed all the accidental shyness of a lost puppy.

Piccolo blinked. _What the…?_

"I think…" Yamcha stammered in quiet awe, "I think she's about to cry."

"Agh! Enough of this!" Vegeta barked, his gravelly voice more annoying that the shrill sound of machinery. He stood to his feet and limped over to her, flinging a finger in her face. "I don't have the patience for this enigmatic nonsense. Who are you? And how did you defeat Cell?"

As if the transformation from destroyer to maiden-in-distress wasn't quick enough, she reverted back to berserker in the wink of an eye. That horrible, awful noise emanated from her mouth again as she locked her gaze on Vegeta, and the wind whipped and whirled around her, firing up with the brilliant light.

Even Vegeta's practiced mask of schooled annoyance broke, and he stumbled back, his eyes widening dramatically. She leapt at him, knocking him down. He went completely rigid, as she snarled and sniffed at his skin as though…

_As though assessing his capacity for evil,_ Piccolo contemplated. The powerful dragon spawn, if it was indeed Shenlong who had created her, must have been like a homing device for malevolence. And Vegeta's alignment with good was still reluctant at best…

_Vegeta…_ He had the distinct impression that if she wanted to kill him, there wouldn't be much any of them could do about it. Not that he would miss the high and mighty Prince of Saiyans, but still…

"Father!" Trunks cried, and leapt forward so quickly that Piccolo didn't even realize what had happened until the lavender-haired Saiyan materialized yards from them, flinging Vegeta behind him. Vegeta was still dumbstruck after being the recipient of the girl's wrath, and gawked mutely as Trunks stood between him and the female.

"I won't let you kill him," he said desperately, bravely, and all for a man who would sooner call him imposter than son. The girl flared and hovered, her daggered eyes darting between the two Saiyans.

Piccolo held his breath. After a drawn out moment, she dimmed, her aura subsided, and she touched down softly on her feet. Everyone seemed to exhale at the same time.

Without the fury to guide her, she again looked lost…worried… She brought her hands up to her face and tried to hide behind them, peeking at the fighters timidly through her fingers.

Vegeta's eyebrow twitched. He was still visibly unnerved. "Forget about _who_ she is. I want to know _what_ she is!"

"Where did you come from?" Yamcha asked directly, his eyes wide and staring. "I mean, you just defeated Cell…and…"

She flicked a glance in his direction, but more out of distraction at his voice than comprehension of his words. For all her stature and physical maturity, she was acting like a…a...

_You've got to be kidding me…_ Piccolo thought.

"Why isn't she answering us?" Tien asked discreetly.

Piccolo studied her demeanor. _Yes. That has to be it._ "She has no language," he said, and they all spun to look at him like he was crazy. He eyed them seriously and continued. "I think she is the result of a very carefully worded wish to Shenlong - with enough power to destroy Cell, and enough innocence not to abuse it."

"WHAT?" voiced his surrounding comrades, almost simultaneously.

"She was just born," he explained. "She has the mind of an infant." He almost felt guilty for that last bit, because they all swiveled their heads and blatantly gawked at her. She let out a whimper at the unwanted attention and plunked down in the dirt, curling into herself.

_Hmm... Poor creature. She's just a baby._ Then he remembered that she'd just killed Cell. He snorted. _A baby with incredible capabilities, and one hell of an instinct to decipher right from wrong. _He shuddered as a memory of her infuriated version flitted across his mind.

_Angel of Death, indeed. _

_Yet still as as meek and afraid as a newborn. Without a mother or father to care for her._ It struck a bitter cord in Piccolo somewhere, bringing back memories of a time when he was in a similar circumstance.

_Someone will take you in, dragonspawn. I'll see to it._

Gohan coughed, and Piccolo jolted, and looked down as pain hindered the lad's awareness anew. "Gohan!" He wanted to kick himself for not flying out of there the moment she killed Cell, if only to get Gohan to Dende. "Hang in there," he managed as he stood to his feet. "We're leav-"

She was in his face, suddenly, her expression a grimace of empathy as she touched Gohan's sweat-drenched forehead with the tips of her fingers. Without asking, she took the boy from him, and before he could stop her, she'd leapt up into the sky, and vanished over the horizon so fast that he barely blinked three times before he couldn't see her anymore.

"She took Gohan!" Krillin shouted.

"NO!" Yamcha and Tien powered up to bolt after her.

"He'll be safe with her!" Piccolo cried out haltingly. "She's headed towards the Lookout."

They peeled their gaze off the darkened sky to gawk at him, as though wondering how the hell he knew so much. But Piccolo wasn't in the mood for explaining. He was much more inclined to see if all his suspicions were true. Summoning what was left of his ki, he jumped into the air and peeled through the sky in the direction she'd gone. He felt the others lift up a second later and follow him.

She'd taken Gohan from his arms, just like that. Knowing nothing more than that the boy was hurt. With such developed instincts, she might be less of a babe than he first assumed.

But no less deserving of a decent upbringing …


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: SINCE I'm already re-writing the Cell saga... Thought I'd change one more thing... **

* * *

**_Chapter 14_**

"But that doesn't mean I don't need you!" Gohan cried out before he could stop himself, feeling tears sting his eyes. They'd just wished back to life all of Cell's victims, and Dende said they could use Namek's dragon to bring back his father.

But Goku declined. Said that he had nothing left to teach Gohan. The youth felt like his dad had died all over again, to have been given hope only to lose it to the Saiyan's renowned altruism.

"You'll be fine, son," his dad urged gently, his voice falling over the Lookout like a blanket of mist. "I'm proud of you."

Gohan's throat constricted, and he bowed his head and clenched his fists, fighting an unprecedented urge to do something outrageous. Something so utterly wrong that his dad would _have _to come back. But alas, doing evil was too against Gohan's nature and the concept left him before it materialized into a horrid reality.

He felt Piccolo's hand on his shoulder, but couldn't look up. Taking a deep breath, he tried to be strong. They were all there, watching his reaction. Krillin, Yamcha, Tien…Trunks and Vegeta were standing further back. The android had taken off, but Dende was nearby, and Axle was seated on the steps with her elbows on her knees, and her shoulders hunched in the center. And that strange, beautiful girl who had destroyed Cell was seated awkwardly next to her, cowering behind the alien female's shoulder as though it could possibly hide her presence from them.

_Be strong, Gohan,_ he told himself desperately. _That's what dad expects of you…_ His voice caught before he could even speak. _But how can he just leave me and mom like that?_

"Hey, Piccolo…" Axle said, breaking his train of thought. Gohan felt the namekian's hand on his shoulder tighten involuntarily. Axle was looking at the green warrior through narrowed eyes. Things seemed awkward between them for whatever reason.

She jerked her chin at him. "Cover his ears for me, will ya?"

"…what?" Piccolo managed, his voice unsure.

She stood to her feet casually, but Gohan could see the knotted muscles in her shoulders. Something was agitating her. "Cover the kid's ears," she said again, more firmly. "I got something to say to his dad."

After a moment of strained silence, Gohan felt Piccolo's humungous hands clamp down on his ears, blocking out any sound. He tilted his head back and looked at his mentor, getting nothing more than a confused shrug in response.

Pursing her lips, Axle strode past them, glaring at the sky as though it were responsible for all the hurt in the world. _What is she doing?_ Gohan wondered, momentarily distracted from his woes.

She moved in front of him, placing her fists firmly on her hips without taking her gaze off the heavens. Her jaw started to jump with speech. He couldn't make out her words, but he _could_ see everyone's reactions to them.

And they weren't subtle.

After the first few seconds, Yamcha's eyes widened dramatically and Krillin's jaw just about hit the floor. Then Piccolo flinched as she began to wave her arms about in furious gestures, pacing rigidly - stopping mid rant to redouble her efforts and raise the decibel of her voice…

At which point, Trunks blushed, Tien paled, and even Vegeta unfolded his arms to gawk at her.

Instinctively, Gohan tried to dislodge himself from Piccolo's grasp, but the second his mentor felt him struggle, he frantically tightened his clamp on his ears, apparently in agreement with Axle that he didn't need to be hearing what she was saying.

The cadence of her words slowed down, still mainly indecipherable, but amidst the articulated tirade, Gohan _was_ able to make out the words, 'Stupid', and 'Selfish', blended in with a handful of others that his mother would surely have washed his mouth out with soap for.

Then, after what seemed to be minutes of this, Axle stopped, crossed her arms against her chest, and tapped her foot impatiently.

He heard his father's voice then, though it was muffled through Piccolo's hands. It stammered, fluctuated in a hesitant tone, like it did when mom busted him for something.

Apparently satisfied, Axle turned around, gave a curt nod to Piccolo, who finally peeled his hands off Gohan's reddened ears.

"What happened?" he asked anxiously, as he spun around to face his mentor. "What did she say?"

Piccolo's eyes were still saucer-wide as they followed Axle as she walked back to the steps, plopping down. Then he blinked and looked down at Gohan. "She, uh…" he closed his mouth, and then opened it again in a bewildered chuckle. "Let's just say that your dad is coming back."

* * *

. 

Axle tucked the blanket around the sleeping girl, and watched as Dende painstakingly brushed the white wisps away from her ethereal face. The dragon's creation was sleeping as soundlessly as a babe. She'd even whimpered and fussed before Axle made the connection that the savior of the planet, the destroyer of Cell…

…might need something as simple as a nap.

"She wouldn't eat the food I prepared earlier," Mr. Popo said, wringing his hands with worry behind them. "I tried to make it appetizing-"

"Eating might not be how she gets her energy," Axle said quietly. "She did guzzle all that water down, like the namekians, and sat on the palace steps for more than an hour, absorbing the sun this morning… It's like her instincts come with a survival mechanism along with seeking out and destroying evil."

"Hmmm…" Mr. Popo sighed heavily. She could almost see the mantle of sudden, unexpected parenthood around his neck. "I just wish we knew more about her."

"Pity she didn't come with an instruction booklet," Axle commented wryly. "I doubt there's ever existed anything like the girl before."

Dende leaned back, the events of last night still creasing his too-young face. "How sad. To be the only one of her kind…"

"It doesn't have to be sad," came Piccolo's gruff voice as he materialized in the doorway. Axle jumped at his sudden appearance and silently wondered how long he had been standing there. "Not if she has people to nurture her."

"Hmmm…" Was it her imagination or was Piccolo taking an invested interest in the girl? He was projecting his usual bored aggravation, but his eyes softened every time they landed on her sleeping form. "You volunteering for the job?" she asked, more honest than snide.

His eyes widened and then narrowed at her. Things were still unbearably strained between them. And then there was the whole situation with Nail… She sighed.

He went from offended to pensive. "She should stay here. At the Lookout," he said. "She wouldn't fit in anywhere else."

"I want to keep her," Dende said, as though she were a stray animal he'd rescued. "She needs us."

_Us…_ Axle noticed that no one objected to the little guardian's use of the inclusive term. Specifically Piccolo.

"She's going to be a colossal responsibility," Axle said. "A full time job, on top of being God, and God's assistant, and…" she looked at Piccolo, "and full time…whatever it is you do."

Piccolo snorted, while the other two nodded in grim acceptance.

Dende grabbed her hand then, and peered up at her with his circular, sweet eyes. "Aren't you going to stay, Axle?" he asked, and she winced at the pang in her heart. He'd grown attached to her in the short time she'd been there, and she couldn't help but think the automatic bond between them had something to do with the common denominator - Nail. As though her presence here made Dende less homesick for Namek, and his long lost sibling.

She looked at Piccolo who averted his eyes. A rush of guilt resurfaced for what she'd done to him the night before, and she wondered if he'd ever be comfortable around her again. "I don't know yet, scrub. Piccolo and I need to talk."

The green warrior flinched at her straight out comment and then glared at her as though she had no place making any requests of him at all.

Axle would have just left him be, had the most vital key to her happiness not been locked inside his soul. There was an edgy silence between them. _You have access to someone I need, Piccolo. I can't just walk away._

Mr. Popo broke the quiet with a very practical observation. "She needs a name."

Axle sat back, and they all looked at each other stupidly, as though responsibility could be by shuffled off by eye contact, alone. She shrugged. "Why not call her what she is?" she suggested helpfully. "Justice."

"Justice?" Piccolo repeated, his voice lacking its usual bite.

Axle snorted. "Well, she sure as hell ain't Mercy."

"She _did_ spare Vegeta," Dende reasoned.

"That's because Vegeta is salvageable," she said.

"Justice," Mr. Popo tried out the name, and then nodded. "It fits."

"Then it's settled," Axle said as she rose to her feet and ushered them all out. "For now, let's give her some quiet. She saved the world last night, remember?"

* * *

. 

Later that day, after a failed attempt to sleep, Axle managed to muster up enough courage to approach Piccolo at the edge of the Lookout. He'd been standing there for some time, rigid and twitchy, as though forcing himself to stay grounded when all he really wanted to do was to jump off and get the hell away from her.

As she looked at his broad, tall form, silhouetted gold against the hues of the setting sun, Axle hoped he'd had enough time to work whatever it was, out with himself, so that they could discuss…_Nail_…

A tickle ran down her spine at the thought of the alpha son. The concept of being with him again almost made her giddy. Piccolo might make things difficult, but as she said earlier, it was still a lesser obstacle than turning an entire species against each other. Taking a deep breath, she strode up and stood beside him. His eyes were tightly shut, and his jaw muscles were jumping. As a matter of fact, he seemed anything but relaxed.

"Piccolo…"

He had to have heard her coming, but he still flinched when she said his name. _Egads. Do I make you that nervous, boy?_ Then she realized that she was fidgeting, and shifting weight from one leg to the other. _Well, it's mutual, believe me…_

He didn't look up, but his eyes opened to slivers and he stared at some random point in the horizon, acknowledging her with silence. It suddenly occurred to her that her nearness might still trigger his insanity, and she forced herself to stay put.

"Am I safe around you?"

His brow drew tight in the center. "For now."

She paused, mulling it over. _Well, at least he didn't say 'No'._ "Listen," she began awkwardly. "I'm sorry about…what happened-"

"Forget about it."

_Hmm… Right…_ Another silence passed between them, and it stretched unbearably until she couldn't take it any longer. Sighing audibly, she turned outright to face him. "Look. I'd walk away from you right now if I could, but I'm too damn invested. I want him, Piccolo. I…I need him."

The aggravation in his face shifted to something else, and he clenched his eyes closed. "You can't have him," he hissed in a strained whisper.

She couldn't believe how stubborn he was being. "Cell is defeated. You don't have to save the world tomorrow," she huffed. "I'm not asking for time with him every day."

He finally faced her, the hard edge gone from his visage. He almost looked…sympathetic? _Imagine that_, she thought elatedly. _I'm getting somewhere._

"Just enough to make it fair to all of us," she finished.

"Axle-"

"Once a week-"

"Axle-"

"Or even once a month, as long as I can be with him-"

"AXLE!" he cried and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. She stiffened and stared in alarm at his pained expression. "He's gone!"

She frowned, hearing but not comprehending. "But you can let him surface-"

"I can't! I've been trying to all afternoon, and he's…not there anymore."

Her heart started slamming the breath from her lungs and a cold, skeletal hand gripped at her esophagus. But despite her physiological reactions to his words, the denial still trickled off her lips. "He has to be…"

Piccolo straightened, his grip on her shoulders softening. His brow lifted in pained apology.

"Something happened," he said. "When you came on to me last night. I…Nail…he was attacking me, and I…" He exhaled and released her then, turning his back to her. "I don't know what I did, but he's gone, Axle. I'm…sorry."

* * *

. 

Piccolo grimaced at the pain in his chest in the following silence. He could hear her breathing, and he could hear it stop. After a drawn out moment of frozen silence a small wail sounded from behind him, and he heard her slump to the ground. He instinctively spun around, only to see her glossed eyes darting about in a blitzed fashion, fixing on nothing and everything, the tears rolling down her cheeks in rivulets.

He didn't know she could look so vulnerable. Ignoring the dull ache in his gut, he knelt down beside her and touched her arm. Her eyes abruptly came into focus when she noticed him, and a sob escaped her lips. He brought his other hand up and she hissed and inched away from him, staring at his face with more emotions than he could identify. "I can't…look at you…" she choked. Then, before he could stop her, she lunged off the edge of the Lookout.

"Axle!"

He hovered nervously at the drop, waiting for her to fire up her ki, and fly. To his immense relief, she did, and pulled out of the death plunge. It ruled out the possibility of a suicide drop. But still, he wanted to go after her, because mixed in with his acute sense of guilt for what he'd done to Nail, were all those borrowed memories that made him think he couldn't possibly live without her.

He placed a weary hand over his eyes and tilted his head back to the sky. _You might go crazy yet, Piccolo._

His unspoken thought reminded him unexpectedly of the one personality that had managed to stay quiet during the past 24 hours of utter turmoil. The one wise enough to know to remain silent.

_Kami…_

In a act of desperation, Piccolo called out to the old guardian, trying to give him a thought to adhere to…something that would collect his scattered awareness.

_Kami. Pull yourself together, old man. I… _he swallowed his pride. _I need your help._

He felt the stirrings within him immediately - a dim, but struggling identity in the back of his mind.

_Come on,_ he urged mentally. _Nail did it. You can do it._

He held his breath as the persona grew stronger, more distinct. He finally exhaled when it acquired voice.

_Piccolo… _came the all-too-familiar, paternal tone. Then Piccolo winced as he felt Kami probe at his memories, invading his thoughts. His gut reaction was to resist it, but the old guardian needed to know what he'd been through since Axle arrived, and he didn't feel like explaining it.

After several moments, he could feel Kami's shock. _You've had a rough few days, my son…_

Piccolo snorted derisively, choosing not to comment on the endearing title. _Hmph. No shit._

_Unbelievable. The dragon wish,_ Kami related in unfiltered awe. _I didn't think it could be done_

_That's not why I called you, _Piccolo cut him off abruptly. _It's about Nail…_

A pause, and then a sympathetic, _Ah, yes…_

_Can you sense him? At all?_

Pause. _No._

Piccolo felt his stomach drop out. _I killed him, didn't I?_ Piccolo swallowed and was glad to be communicating telepathically so he wouldn't have to force sound through such a constricted throat. _Wiped him from existence…_

He felt Kami probe his mind again. _No…_

Piccolo perked. _What do you mean, 'No'?_

_I doubt that even you would be capable of unmaking his spirit, boy._

_But I felt him cease to exist…_

_As a separate entity, Piccolo. You were fused before. Now, I can only assume you are blended._

"WHAT?" He couldn't stop the word from being said out loud.

_He was a part of you, and now he IS you, swallowed up and consumed by your dominant personality._

Piccolo blinked. It made sense. But it didn't solve his problem. _Axle doesn't want me. She wants him._

_Then split._

Piccolo growled. _Shut up. I'm in no mood for your wry humor._

An exasperated sigh. _I'm not joking._

His words caused a flame of hope to flicker in the midst of his despair, but Piccolo continued to argue out of reflex. _Fused namekians can't separate!_

_You weren't listening. I said you're no longer fused with Nail. You're one entity. And one entity can split, as evidenced by how the Demon King and I came into existence. _

He was making sense. Good hell, the old fool was making sense, but… _It's not the same circumstance._

_True. Katatsu's son purged himself of evil._

Piccolo felt his lips curl up in a self-deprecating smirk. _If I purged myself of evil, then I just might cease to exist._

_You're too hard on yourself. You've come a long way, lad._

He frowned in consternation. _Do you know how it's done?_

_No. Many of Katatsu's son's memories didn't survive the transfer. But that's the one thing of Nail you still have. His recollections. His life story. I'd say it's a good start. A practical point to focus on. _

_You really think it might work?_

There was a pause, and then a quiet, less confident voice fell on his inner ear. _I don't know. This is theory. Even if it did work, there could very likely be side effects you won't be willing to deal with. _

Piccolo felt the hope dim. What the hell was he thinking? It would be smartest to just go on with life, and leave Axle to her own destiny down below. Why risk something as huge as a split just so a petty romance could continue?

_It's not petty,_ came the memory of Nail's words in answer to his question. Piccolo grimaced and hung his head in indecision. It was too much to ask. Besides, it probably wouldn't take much to persuade Axle into taking him in Nail's place, anyways.

But could he live with himself if he did that?

Piccolo shuddered. _No._

Then continue with life as though she wasn't stranded down there, hurting…

_Un-uh._

Split?

_Hmph. I'm not that self-sacrificing. _

In response, three words rang out before Kami's presence faded back to oblivion, echoing in his mind like an avalanche in a canyon.

_You're wrong, Piccolo…_


	15. Chapter 15

**_Chapter 15_**

"He's still in there?" Dende asked in perplexed alarm as he blinked away the haze of last night's sleep. Mr. Popo sighed heavily and looked at the sealed entrance to the tower room. Muffled sounds, somewhere between growls and a groans, emanated from behind the closed door.

"All night, my friend."

Dende bit his lower lip in concern. Some time around the apex of the midnight constellations, Mr. Popo had taken the second watch over Piccolo as the warrior tried to split himself. They knew he wanted to be left alone, but Dende wasn't about to leave him unsupervised. The procedure sounded dangerously unnatural, and the healer in him couldn't just ignore it.

His attention was drawn to the white-haired girl pacing back and forth in the corner. "How long has she been awake?"

"A couple hours. She wants to go in there. I think she knows he's in pain."

Dende blinked surprise. "What powerful instincts…"

"Oh yes."

Suddenly, the pained noises from within the room crescendoed, causing Dende to stiffen at the sound. He looked at Mr. Popo who seemed just as alarmed. Even Justice had stopped moving, and stared with palpable worry at the door.

The guttural moans exploded into outright yells, accentuated with that deep gravelly boom of the warrior's voice.

"What's happening?" Mr. Popo cried.

"He must be doing it," Dende explained, and then ran forward to stop Justice as she leapt at the door. He caught her pant leg and held tight. "Justice, wait! If you interrupt him now, you might make it worse!"

She tugged against his grip, and looked down at him with wet, violet eyes. Then she whimpered, peered back at the door, and began to hit her head with her hands.

"Mr. Popo!" Dende cried. "Help me, please…"

The black-skinned Keeper ambled over to them and grabbed Justice's hand. A symphony of roars and thrashing made them all cringe, and just as Dende was about to burst through the door himself, it ended with a wet, elastic rip, followed by two heavy thuds.

Justice broke free and went straight through the door without even opening it. Dende and Mr. Popo followed suit, stepping over the splinters, and froze.

Two warriors, not one, were in varying degrees of agony on the floor.

"NAIL!" Dende cried and ran over to the bloodier one, who was bruised, ripped, and battered as though… _Well,_ he thought wildly, _as though he'd just been pulverized by Frieza._ Nail groaned convulsively and tilted his head to peer at Dende through swollen eyes. Dende imagined they would have widened in surprise had the bruising allowed.

"Den…de?"

"Hang on, brother." Bracing his hands over Nail, Dende called on the magic that Guru had released within him, and felt it flow through his fingertips to heal the fallen warrior. It only took seconds, but drained him significantly. He wanted to weep at how close to death Nail had been.

He sat up alarmed, and gawked at his hands as though surprised to find them attached to the ends of his wrists. "I…I can't sense Piccolo! What's going on?"

With great effort, Dende refrained from breaking down in tears and embracing his long lost sibling, and hurried over to the other casualty of this insane procedure.

Piccolo was curled in fetal position on the floor, convulsing and mumbling incoherencies. Justice was hovering over him like a canopy of distress, whimpering softly as she touched his face.

Dende eased her aside and placed his hands on Piccolo's form. The namekian's clothes were ripped up the back, and a large, bloodied wound stretched from his tailbone to the top of his skull. Dende shuddered reflexively, and used what was left of his energies to heal him.

As he did so, the twitching stopped, and he breathed a sigh of relief when Piccolo relaxed under his hands. But no sooner had he finished, than Justice pushed him aside and got in Piccolo's face before he could even open his eyes.

* * *

. 

Piccolo felt the mind-numbing pain subside, and he exhaled a shuddering breath as his body uncurled. Abruptly, he felt two hands on his face, and a light pressure against his chest. His lids peeled open, and encompassing his entire line of vision was a teary-eyed, pretty face just inches from his own.

He gasped at how audaciously close she was. As a matter of fact, he would have jumped back three yards had the floor not been in his way. With his thoughts in a jumble, he said the first thing that crossed his mind, confusing the situation with the last time a female had so boldly invaded his personal space.

"I'm Piccolo!"

She blinked, still immensely worried, and laid her head against his neck, running her hands up and down his arms. Strands of white hair tickled his nose.

"I think she knows that," Mr. Popo said from beside him, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Wh-what's she doing?" he asked, wholly unaccustomed to being caressed on _any _level.

He heard soft laughter from Dende. "I think she's trying to express herself. She was very worried about you."

The memory of who she was came surfacing back as he stared dumbly at the crown of her head. _Justice_ - Cell-destroyer, and newest addition to the Lookout, lifted her head back up, and smiled relief in his face at what he could only assume was his well-being.

_All that emotion for me?_ he thought wildly, as a dull squeeze in his chest made him clench his fists. He barely repressed a reflexive smile in time as he placed an awkward hand on her back. "Hmph. Just wait until she gets to know me," he said in an effort to hide how warm her concern made him feel inside.

"True. You're not a very pleasant individual." came an eerily familiar voice from behind Dende. Piccolo sat up with Justice in his arms and looked over the young Guardian's shoulder to the warrior sitting on the floor.

He choked. "Nail!"

Nail smiled back, but his eyes were also wide with confusion. He opened his mouth to say something when Dende tackled him outright, wrapping both his tiny arms around Nail's neck.

"I missed you!" he cried, and Nail hugged the smaller namekian to him.

Then Piccolo remembered. He felt his jaw drop. "I did it. I split us."

"Yes," Mr. Popo confirmed. "You did."

"This isn't a dream, then?" Nail asked hopefully.

"Nope!" Dende pulled back and smiled. "You're back. You're really back!"

Nail laughed and embraced him again. Then he pulled back, his face suddenly turning very serious. All good humor melted off his visage, and in its place was something much, much darker. He locked stares with Piccolo.

"My last memory is not a good one, Piccolo," he said lowly, dangerously.

Piccolo narrowed his eyes. "A great deal more was going on than you realized, Nail. That incident nearly cost me my sanity," he said. "But we'll talk later. As for now, there's a certain alien female that needs you."

Nail's eyes widened, and he got to his feet, the earlier offense momentarily forgotten. "Where is she?"

"Took off in hysterics last night after I told her I thought I'd wiped you from existence."

"You what!"

"Don't ask. Just go to her. Search for her at the edge of the Lookout. You'll remember how."

Nail was out the door before he finished speaking, with Dende running after.

"Nail! Aren't you going to put some clothes on?"

A split second later, Piccolo felt the ripple in the kis around him as an outfit materialized nearby. He opened his mind up to see if there was a tinge of jealousy on his part, now that Nail was off to be with the only female that he'd ever felt something for, but it was a little difficult to concentrate on anything with those expressive, large, violet eyes locked on his face.

* * *

. 

Axle stepped mechanically out of the shower, and accidentally glanced in the mirror as she turned to grab the towel. A red, puffy-eyed stranger peered back at her, with a frown so deep, she could have had anvils hooked onto the corners of her lips. A residual hiccup wracked her body, and ignoring the fresh set of tears that rolled down her clean cheeks, she finished toweling off and tossed on a sleeveless, knee-length nightshirt that she'd found in one of the drawers.

She'd scouted out the vacant cabin in the mountains during those few days before they fought with Cell. Decently stocked, secluded, and quaint - Axle recognized a vacation home when she saw one.

After leaving the Lookout last night, she'd aimlessly flown for hours, as though the peeling air friction could somehow extract her misery. But the mourning ran its full course, and at some point in the middle of the night, she'd reluctantly accepted her loss. It still eroded her soul like a cancer, but after making a conscious decision to continue living - even though all she wanted to do was fall asleep and never wake up - Axle touched down here.

It had been over _three days_ since she last slept, and to say that she was suffering from sheer exhaustion was a complete understatement. After rummaging through the pantry of dehydrated goods and showering the muck from her body, Axle made her way to a fluffy bed and burrowed under the covers.

Her body was willing, now if she could only get her mind to shut down…

But abruptly, with no more trigger than the fact that she'd stopped moving, a memory flitted across her mind for the thousandth time in the past twelve hours…

* * *

"Hey Nail," she said, and repressed a smile as he spun around suspiciously fast.

"Yes?"

She toyed with the blade of grass in her mouth before continuing, her lips curling up into a smile. "Next time you have a conversation with a female, Mister I-have-no-gender," she jested, trying not to laugh as he frowned in honest bafflement at the title, "It's common etiquette to keep your eyes on her face."

He blinked stupidly. She glanced pointedly down at her chest where the vest stretched over her breasts. His eyes followed, and lingered, narrowing in thought. After a couple seconds, vague comprehension lifted his handsome features, and his cheeks darkened with a purple flush. It was cute. Really, it was.

Yep, _she thought amusedly. _You've been staring at them this whole time, boy.

His eyes trailed back up to her face, and he gulped. "They aren't chest muscles, are they?"

She laughed heartily at the innocent nature of his glaring ignorance.

"No."

Yep, You've been staring at them this whole time, boy.

* * *

She bit her bottom lip, and clenched her eyes shut as her cognizance dropped ruthlessly right into another recollection…perhaps the most excruciating of them all…

* * *

"I want to remember this," he breathed, "Your touch. How you feel. How you make me feel."

Her eyes watered, and she clutched at him desperately, losing all sense of reality from the intensity of his declaration. "Come with me, Nail. Please. Guru can find another"

The sound of shuffling feet was heard on the ramp below. "Axle!" Sprocket's voiced yanked her out of the blissful moment.

"You know I can't." Nail lifted his head, and rested his brow against hers, his eyes wet and anguished. "Never forget, Axle…."

* * *

_Never forget…_

Axle turned her face into the pillow and didn't even try to fight it this time. With her mouth open in a silent cry, she wet its material with her tears, and clutched blindly at the mattress as though it were a mother's embrace.

Sleep came eventually, but not soon enough. By the time it claimed her, it was alarmingly abrupt. After three wakeful days her body, quite simply, had spent the last of its conscious energies in grieving.

She wouldn't have woken up for the end of the world.

* * *

Winded from his hurried flight, but intoxicated with exhilaration, Nail descended upon the quaint mountain living quarters. A brief curious question popped in his head as to how Axle came about the place, but it was swallowed up in his anxiousness.

The moment his feet touched down they were running, and he barely turned the knob in time to keep from splintering through front door.

"Axle!"

Not waiting for an answer, he bolted up the stairs, four at a time with his heart in his throat. "Axle! He did it! I'm"

He paused, mid-stride, when he entered the room, his voice halted by his tongue. Swaddled in the blankets like a marsupial in its mother's pouch was Axle. _His_ Axle. Sleeping. And no doubt soundly, considering the fact that his enthusiastic entrance hadn't aroused her.

Nail barely noticed the relieved smile that turned his lips upward, or the sting in his eyes as he padded over and knelt by the bed. Her long dark lashes were clumped with residual wetness from shed tears, and her shimmering cheeks were streaked with water lines. The soft sheets were balled up in her fists as her silent form rose and fell with the deep breaths of slumber.

A sudden hiccupping sob convulsed through her body, and he startled, expecting her to wake up. But she was no less conscious than before, and it hurt his heart to think that even in the depths of a comatose sleep, she still cried.

He rested his lips gently on the corner of her mouth, feeling her breath as it exhaled against his chin. "I'm here, Axle," he whispered against her skin. "I'm not leaving this time."

Whether his words reached her buried awareness or not, he wasn't sure, but he was answered with a small, nearly inaudible whimper that resounded in the back of her throat.

He wanted to wake her - so badly, it was all he could do to keep quiet. But her lack of utter consciousness made him wonder how long she'd gone without sleep, and the better namekian in him decided to let her rest. He pulled back and looked at her face. He thought he might be content just staring at it for however many hours it took her body to rejuvenate itself, but then his eyes trailed to the curve of her form under the covers.

Acting on impulse, he stood and walked to the other side of the bed, slipping under the sheets. He scooted over and intimately curled himself around her warm figure, draping an arm across her stomach.

She slept on, oblivious, and as he inhaled the perfumed scent of her washed hair, his chest ached with the pain of an impossible reunion, the rediscovery of a lost love, the promise of a future with her by his side… He clung possessively to the Rameumptumite female that had rocked his world all those years ago, reveling in the fact that this time, at last, he wouldn't have to let go.

Ever again…


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I know I've got the cliche Z-fighters-get-together-for-a-barbeque scene below, but dude - it just fit. **

**_Chapter 16_**

**ONE MONTH LATER **

Axle hung back in the shade of a monstrous canopy, more than a little overwhelmed by quite possibly the largest residence she'd ever seen in her life.

Capsule Corporation. Home of the Briefs.

The blue-haired female - Bulma, they said her name was - and Goku's wife, were organizing the catered barbequing that filled the immense backyard area with a deliciously meaty aroma. It made Axle incredibly hungry, and surprised her in no small manner that the men weren't hovering like flies for the first cooked morsel to be slapped down on a plate.

Then she looked at the pool and chuckled. _Granted, it looks like they're having a ridiculously good time over there… _An alarmingly tall water slide dropped down into a chlorinated swimming hole the size of a large pond, and Goku, Krillin, and Yamcha all seemed to be taking turns to see who could slip down it the fastest - three grown males, so beside themselves with chuckles and sniggering, it were as though they'd just discovered how to laugh.

Nail and Tien stood chatting at the water's edge, bare down to their waists with Dende and Chaotzu sitting atop their broad shoulders like short-limbed, happy little primates. She didn't know what they were saying, but the conversation was visibly amiable from the smiles crinkling their faces. It was good to see Nail fit in so well with the fighters after being split from Piccolo.

Trunks was wading in the shallow end of the pool, playing with himself… Literally. Axle still had a difficult time comprehending the whole 'time travel' thing, and it was strange as hell watching the young man laugh it up with a chubby, one-year old version of himself. He was actually the reason they had all gathered. A sort of going away party before he returned to the future.

"Mom. I finished my homework," she heard Gohan say behind her. "NOW can I go swimming?"

Axle turned to see the black-haired, sternly pretty female toss him a narrow-eyed side glance over her shoulder while she was cutting up vegetables. But the disapproving look seemed more out of habit than true aggravation.

"All right, Gohan. Just as long as you're finished."

"Yea-heah!" Gohan hopped up, stripped to his swimming suit and was in the water before Axle had even finished turning around.

"Hey son!" Goku cried at the top of the slide. "I'm winning-EGH!"

Goku was abruptly pushed off the slide by Yamcha. Dropped two stories like a lead weight. The pavement crunched when he hit, but he jumped up as only a super being could, the grin still plastered to his face.

"That's only because Saiyans are more dense!" Yamcha cried in gleeful mischief. "But behold! My new technique…"

Axle choked, as Yamcha, with no more warning than a twinkle in his eye, pulled his suit down over his rump, and zipped right down that slide…

On his bare ass.

Axle laughed and shook her head hopelessly while the pool area resounded with another set of hearty guffaws. Yamcha was right, though. He'd gone awfully fast.

She was surprised at his audacity, until she considered what she'd heard about the people who were there. Axle figured there really wasn't anyone around for the guys to impress. And in the post-stress environment of having nearly lost their lives to Cell, they were damn well entitled to act how they wanted.

And boys would be boys…

Krillin was up next, shaking so hard with mirth that she was surprised his pants didn't drop all the way to his ankles when he tried the same trick. Gohan, fortunately retained some semblance of dignity and just watched. Truth was, he just seemed happy that everyone else was happy. And Trunks - he laughed in bewildered surprise at their behavior, as though he had no idea such silliness could be so much fun.

But what made her avert her eyes outright and blush furiously, was when Goku - who decided to take it a step further - grabbed his ankles as he bare-assed down the slide, which automatically flipped him over when he sailed off the lip. Axle knew what was coming, but it was like watching a spaceship come in for a crash landing. You couldn't just look away until it was over.

Hence, the most awkward part of the male anatomy…the little package that was much better visualized in the heat of passion than a spontaneous exhibition, was displayed in all its mammalian crudeness for all to see, as ugly and disturbing as the face of a goat.

_Egh…Goku. Had I known you would have provided me with such a nasty visual upon your return, I would have let your ass stay dead._

The backyard erupted in noisy response, but what caught her attention wasn't the helium-pitched squeaks of the pool audience, or the shocked gasps and following verbal tirade of the women… It was a single, derisive 'Hmph' that sounded from behind her.

She turned around to see Frieza's x-xenocide lackey don one of the most genuinely disgusted expressions she'd ever seen. Shoulders tense, jaw muscles jumping with his lip twitching in a snarl, Vegeta glared at the spectacle through slitted eyes. He caught her staring at him, and shook his head.

"Utter foolishness…" he grated

She tried to suppress a smile. "You too good for bare-assing, soldier?"

She got his full attention at that, though his aggravation was still directed at the adults in the pool. "Such play isn't worthy of children, let alone warriors," he declared heatedly.

"Yes," she responded, suddenly defending the behavior for no more reason than to hear Vegeta's argument, "But 'such play' gives these heroes a sense of normalcy when they're anything but. Besides, look at what a good time they're having."

He quirked his brow at her. "Good time?" he asked with all the cocky incredulity of a person who considered a 'good time' blowing things up. "They could blast that pool and the planet beneath it in seconds, and yet here they are, acting as though they're bound by the laws of gravity to out-speed each other. It's stupid."

"True," she bantered back, "But one should never underestimate the power of male stupidity."

That curled his lips in a wry smirk as he considered her words. "Hn. Well, if _stupidity_ is the reason for Kakkarot's strength, then that's something I could almost live with."

She grinned and turned her head back to the pool as they shared a moment of amused silence. Truth was, she probably understood Vegeta better than anyone here. Two Stroke had done his fair share in dealing with Frieza's brutes, and Axle could only imagine how difficult it was for the Saiyan to put aside his violent conditioning and allow himself to tolerate the company of such a peace loving group.

_Yeah_, she mused silently. _It's probably better for everyone if you brood in the shadows, my friend. I'd hate for you to accidentally kill one of these good people out of reflex. _

"So where's the namek?" he asked, surprising her that he continued the conversation. "Assuming the one over there is the result of that split everyone keeps talking about."

He addressed Nail in such a detached manner, that it made Axle assume he had no idea that she and Nail were together. Like it wasn't even possible. She shrugged and feigned indifference. "Piccolo is coming. With Justice."

"Hmm…"

She knew he was curious about the dragonspawn that had killed Cell and had nearly taken him out. How could he not be? So she continued to divulge information, just so the proud warrior could save face by not asking.

"That girl is something else," she commented honestly, facing him again so she wouldn't be distracted by the ass show over in the pool. "She's a living paradox - innocent as a babe, wise as a god."

He said nothing, but his eyes were locked on her face in masked curiosity. Lucky for him, she could read the signs.

"Being created to destroy evil," Axle continued gratuitously. "Shenlong equipped her with the ability to tell right from wrong. So that's one thing Piccolo doesn't have to teach her-"

"Piccolo?"

Axle grinned. "Yes, Piccolo. We purposely dwell elsewhere so he can't rely on us to do the nurturing. Nail thought it might be good for him."

Vegeta snorted, again missing the hint that she and Nail were a pair. She shrugged and continued.

"Anyways, she's instinctively compassionate, which is another niche in her stick of maturity. And of course she has a grown body, and the knowledge of how to use it. That foregoes training her to walk, fly, fight…" she shrugged. "So all that's left, really is to school her on language and social behaviors. She's incredibly advanced for having just been born."

Vegeta snorted. "Social behaviors. Like the namek has a clue how those work."

She lifted her brows at him, amused. "And you do?"

His eyes widened, but he apparently decided to not take her words offensively. His gaze flickered to the caterers and the blue-haired woman ordering them around. "I am a Prince. I know how they work. I just choose not to use them."

"Ah…"

He didn't outright smile, but his eyes crinkled before the mask of bored annoyance snapped back into place. After another short silence, he said in his customary snide tone, "I take it you've decided to make earth your home."

"Oh yes," she replied, wondering how long it had been since Vegeta had had a conversation with anyone. Knowing she was a mercenary, he seemed more at ease around her than the others. Perhaps it was because she already knew he was a bad ass, and with everyone else he still felt the need to prove it.

"I even lined up a job before the fight with Cell."

"What?"

"I stopped a politician from throwing herself off a bridge."

"Hn. You did this planet a disservice."

"Not in this case, my friend," she said. "Turns out the woman made a career out of defending minorities, and after I talked her out of suicide, she made an impulsive decision and asked me to be her spokesperson," she smiled, recalling again that her mother had been in a similar line of work. "I mean, who better to have representing a minority rights politician than an alien?"

He snorted. "Lucky you."

She clicked her tongue. "You're damn right, lucky me. It's not my style to live off the charity of others," she said as she looked pointedly at him.

He smirked, refusing to be goaded. He was more confident than that, obviously taking pride in exploiting the kindness of the Briefs. "I've defended this pathetic planet so many times, they owe me."

He had a point. She shrugged. "Fair enough."

Just then, he perked and looked up at the sky. She followed his gaze to see Piccolo and Justice dropping down from the heavens.

They had put Justice in a flattering, seashell dress, that clasped over her left shoulder. It seemed to only enhance her surreal prettiness to the point of distraction. Even the commotion at the pool had settled at the awe of her arrival.

Axle then noticed that Piccolo wasn't wearing his turban or cape, either, perhaps Justice's influence. As a matter of fact, his only attire was a pair of straight-legged black pants to contrast with Nail's white.

Had Nail not already been there, she might have confused the two, she realized, which automatically made her recall the last time she had mistaken one for the other. She couldn't stop the smile from lifting the corners of her lips as the memory replayed itself in her mind's eye.

* * *

_"I'll live in your memories, Axle. And if I can't have your reality, then I'll have your dreams…"_

_"It's not the same, Nail. You're not real enough. It still hurts."_

_He curled himself around her, fitting around the curve of her body as naturally as a shell fits around a snail. He was so warm…his arm was so heavy as it draped across her waist. He was unbelievably tangible. "Is this real enough?" _

_His breath tickled her neck, and she shuddered, leaning into his embrace. "Close…"_

_Drinking up his surreal presence, Axle let herself hallucinate in the hazy fog that lingered somewhere between slumber and consciousness. "Just wish…didn't have…t'wake up…"_

_"Axle?" he said, his voice suddenly taking on a louder, more piercing timbre. "Are you awake?"_

_For some reason, his last words startled her, and she felt the cool air on her eyes as they fluttered open. Confusion swamped her senses as her sight focused on the unfamiliar setting of a wooden floor with a cream interior. The lighting was poor, and she looked out the window to see the late afternoon sun peeking through tall, green trees._

_She felt herself go rigid, and her heart beat sped up. Where am I! Something tightened around her waist, and she looked down to see a green, muscular arm wrapped around her abdomen. Nail? _

_Couldn't be. He was dead…_

I'm still dreaming.

_Then he shifted behind her in a very real way._

No. I'm crazy.

_A dim recollection of a night of crying and a mountain vacation home touched her awareness._

Ok. Not crazy_, she thought as her confusion quickly turned into ire._ But _Piccolo_ is if he thinks he can get away with this_…_

_She flipped around to stare wide-eyed at the heavy-lidded namekian behind her. He smiled softly, and moved his hand up to her face to caress her cheek. He opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced immediately as she curled her fists in the skin of his pecks._

_His expression shifted into a grimace of pained shock, and she turned and heaved him across the room. He slammed against a dresser and crumpled to the ground._

_She stood to her feet. "How DARE you!" she seethed. "How dare you try and take advantage of me while I'm still mourning over his loss!"_

_"Axle," he managed as he shook off the impact and got back up. "It's me."_

_"I know who you are, you conniving, backstabbing, twisted-"_

_"Axle!" he raised his voice, laughing surprise. "It's me! Nail. Piccolo is at the Lookout." Then he winced and rubbed his chest where she'd pinched his skin. "Ouch…"_

_She blinked, changing her mind again about not being insane. "But you're… He said…"_

_"After you left, Piccolo spent the night purging himself of my presence. He didn't think it could be done, but," he moved his hand pointedly from his shoulder to his thigh. "Here I-umph!"_

_He didn't get to finish, because at that precise moment, Axle decided he wasn't Piccolo after all._

_And the rest of his words were lost in the kiss._

_

* * *

_

Axle blinked away the memory, but not before Mr. Popo's words from the following sealing ceremony echoed in her head.

_What is sealed in this dimension will be sealed in the next. Axle and Nail, you are now a unit of forever…_

_Hmph,_ she thought triumphantly. _Let's see Fate try and separate us now…_

With a smile on her face, she walked up to them when they landed, noticing with curious amusement that Piccolo seemed flustered. Nail also noticed it, as he approached with Dende still perched atop his shoulders.

"How was the flight over?" he asked pointedly to Piccolo while Justice stared, wide-eyed and wondering, at the new environment. "We were beginning to think you'd changed your mind about com-"

"Oh! This must be Justice," chimed a pleasantly accented voice from behind them, and Axle turned to see an attractive, blonde older woman break their circle and hook her hand in Justice's arm. Justice cocked her head and studied the kind stranger whose eyes disappeared in her smile.

Axle made the connection that she was Mrs. Briefs, and stepped back to observe the exchange.

"You're a lovely girl, and strong too! Imagine that. Defeating that monster Cell all by yourself-"

Axle smiled as Justice was dragged away by Mrs. Briefs towards the canopy. If there was one thing about Justice's personality that Axle had noticed, it was that Justice recognized kindness and was comfortable around it. So she let them be.

She turned her attention back to Piccolo whose expression was still open in a state of bewildered exasperation. When Justice was out of hearing range, he blew his breath out in a long exhale, his eyes wide with incredulity.

"She keeps on killing people!" he hissed to them in a strangled tone meant to be a whisper. "We passed two towns on the way over, and she just plummeted. Dropped. Next thing I knew, her hellish screech echoed through the streets, followed by a symphony of terrified screams from the bystanders as she turned people into goo."

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I tried to call her, but she wouldn't come. I chased after her, but she ignored me. I'd think she was being insolent, but it doesn't seem like she can help it. She's just..." he clenched his hands into fists, "...Agh!"

For some reason, Axle found it morbidly humorous that Justice, who was as shy and sweet as a sparrow, had a small, insignificant, unbreakable habit of _killing_ people… Evil people, albeit, but people, nonetheless. But by the look on Piccolo's face, he obviously found it far from amusing, so she bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing.

"So I tried to avoid populated areas," he continued, his eyes darting around like fireflies. "But with no people to distract her on the ground, she decided instead to chase the damned SUN!"

Axle snorted and clapped a hand over her mouth as Nail shot her a quick 'behave yourself' glance.

"And she's just so cursing fast…" Piccolo raised a hand wearily up to his forehead, and shut his eyes, inhaling deeply. "I must have chased her for half a globe…"

Losing her grip on her composure, fast, Axle decided to excuse herself. "I'm gonna go," she pointed aimlessly behind her, "check on…something…" Then she turned just in time to hang her head in sniggering as she all but ran away from them. By the time she got to the canopy, she'd calmed enough to not look like a blubbering idiot, and noticed that Mrs. Briefs had shown Justice the outdoor picture box.

"It's a TV, dear, and here's the remote…" Mrs. Briefs handed a rectangular black gadget to Justice and pointed to its buttons. "This changes channels, and this is the volume…"

Justice was sitting on the edge of the sofa, her violet stare fixed on the miniature people on the screen. Axle knew it for what it was. Every civilization seemed to have some sort of entertainment box that played fictitious portrayals of real life. She shrugged. It just might be a good way for Justice to learn about things…vicariously, anyhow.

She hung back and watched silently as Justice flipped the channels excitedly, blinking broadly at the alternating pictures. Then it landed on a certain station, and she stopped.

An indigenous male and female of earth were involved in some sort of intimate conversation, their anguished faces inches apart. They were speaking in a different earth tongue than what Two Stroke had taught Axle, so she didn't recognize the words, but she could only imagine what was being said…

"Te quiero, Felipe. Di me que me quieras a mi!"

"Ay, mi amor. Ya sabes que estoy casado. No puede ser."

The male tried to step back, but the female, with her long black hair and heavy brown eyes threw herself at him in a passionate lip lock. The man seemed to fight it, but the woman caged him against the wall, deeply kissing him until he finally gave in, and grabbed her to him.

Axle snorted. _Been there, done that…_

Then she noticed Justice's reaction, and reconsidered the notion about this picture box being a good form of education. The girl began bouncing on the sofa cushion, tossing a grinning, skittish glance at Axle as though to say, 'Did you see that!' Then, as the embrace progressed, Justice's mouth hung open, and her eyes peeled wide in some sort of hormonal, sensory overload.

_Uh-oh…_

Axle started wringing her hands, as a tickling dread began to nag at her conscience.

That's when Mrs. Briefs noticed the program and smiled delightedly. "Oh! Bulma's father will be so happy to know he isn't the only one who enjoys Spanish soap operas."

Axle took a step forward, deciding that these 'Spanish soap operas' weren't the _best_ way to introduce Justice to sexuality. "I don't know if she should be watching that-"

She was stopped by a muscled arm as it materialized to block her. Startled, she looked over at Vegeta, whose customary smirk was tinged with a hint of mischief in his eyes. He glanced at her and held a finger to his lips, shaking his head. His gaze fell back on Justice, watching her like a prankster who knows a joke is about to be cracked.

Axle pursed her lips. She should have pushed through. She knew she should have…

_I know I'm going to regret this. _

When the couple on the TV got horizontal, Justice clapped her hands in spastic, jerky movements and twisted around, her eyes scanning the area. Axle gulped when they stopped on Piccolo - poor, unsuspecting Piccolo - who had finally relaxed from the flight over and was leaning against a palm tree with his arms folded heavily across his chest.

_Oh…shit…_ "Uh, Justice-"

"Eeeee!"

"Justice, wait!"

With a hop and a squeak, the girl jumped up and flew over to the green warrior, her dress fluttering in the wind behind her like a banner. Piccolo's eyes opened a sliver as she neared, and then widened in alarm when she didn't stop. He unfolded his arms just in time to catch her as she flung herself at him, and covered his mouth with hers.

Axle choked, and gasps filled the area, followed by shocked silence by everyone except for Vegeta, who, for all his earlier composure, had doubled over in great, tactless guffaws, clutching at his stomach, while Piccolo struggled in more ways than one.

"Mmmm! Mph! J-Jus-t'mph!" Inarticulate grunts emanated from the broad-shouldered namekian as he stared in wide-eyed panic at Justice's closed face, his hands frantically trying to push her away. But just like the woman in the TV, Justice redoubled her efforts, pinning him to the tree with her body, while her arms snaked around his neck.

At which point, Vegeta's laughter jumped up two octaves and cracked. The attention in the group started to be divided between the passionate spectacle and the Saiyan Prince, as people obviously couldn't decide which was more shocking…the sight of Justice kissing Piccolo or the odd, unprecedented sound of Vegeta's hysterical hee haws.

The Saiyan collapsed on the floor beside Axle, banging the grass with his fists, causing the very ground to tremble. "OUT…OF…" he choked, gurgled, gasped for breath, "Out of ALL of us here, and she goes after the NAMEK," squeak, wheeze, hiccup, "Whose EQUIPMENT doesn't even work!"

Piccolo heard that, and it registered about the same time that it hit Axle - the prince apparently thought namekians were genderless.

"ST-STOP" Piccolo managed as he finally pried Justice from his purpled face, hurling all his bewildered anxiety into his roar at Vegeta. "STOP TALKING ABOUT MY EQUIPMENT!"

That sent the pitch of the Saiyan's laughter right off the scale of human perception.

Justice backed away from Piccolo, obviously distressed at his reaction. After all, it's not what the picture box had shown would happen. The blushing, green warrior huffed and sputtered, with so many different emotions in his face, Axle thought his head might explode. Then, with a final pained look at the girl who had jumped his bones, he powered up and burst into the air, disappearing from sight.

Axle ran up to Justice, who had realized in alarm that she was the center of attention again, and started cowering. Axle circled an arm around her, and looked through the wisps of white hair to the large, violet eyes, and quivering lower lip.

"Pic-co'o," Justice's face scrunched, trying to express emotions she didn't have words for yet. "AAAH!"

"No, my friend," she said. "He's not mad at you. Okay?" She tried to reassure the girl with a smile. Justice just hid her face in her hands.

Nail and Dende approached with worried looks on their faces. "That was…unexpected," Nail said. A colossal understatement.

Axle pointed with her chin at the TV under the canopy, next to a helplessly recovering Vegeta. Nail knew what it was, as evidenced by his, "Oh…"

"Yeah," Axle confirmed. "We've got a baby here with a woman's body and a complete package of hormones. And it looks like Piccolo is her object of desire."

Dende blushed. "She has been awfully fond of him. From the beginning."

"Drawn to him," Nail added. "Is practically impervious to his mean exterior. I think she can see right past it."

"Well," Axle mused. "We need to do something. She needs to learn a lot more about life before she goes throwing herself at someone like Piccolo."

Justice lowered her hands and her eyes darted from one to the other, obviously aware that they were discussing her.

"Mr. Popo can take her into the Hyperbolic Time Chamber for a year, and teach her," Dende suggested helpfully.

Nail nodded. "A good idea," he agreed. "She's too powerful to cut loose on society without knowing how it works, first."

Axle remembered the Hyperbolic Time Chamber from her time at the Lookout. And she found as she looked upon the confused and distressed girl that she couldn't agree more. Justice needed to be taught about life, and as soon as possible.


	17. Epilogue

**_EPILOGUE_**

The black heavens swirled and roiled with saturated clouds, feeding water to the tumultuous waves in blankets, not drops. The gales of the northern sea were some of the most violent displays of Mother Nature, and all air-breathing creatures avoided them.

All but one, that was.

Hovering only feet above the tallest swells was a stoic green warrior, whose eyes saw nothing but the backs of his lids as he sat with his limbs crossed in the air. The storm had no more penetration on his awareness than would a passing butterfly, as all his concentration was turned inward, dealing with a psychological upheaval that made the raging tempest look like a rainy day.

After forty-eight hours of attempted meditation, and self-sparring, Piccolo had finally come to terms with Justice's unexpected come on…

Barely.

He still wasn't focused. His sentiments were still bombarding him in a whirlwind of confusion… As a matter of fact, the only thing he _had_ figured out was that she'd been inappropriately exposed to intimacy, and had decided that he'd be her first guinea pig.

_Yeah, _he thought in a pitiful effort to convince himself. _That was all it was. There was no feeling behind it. _

Never mind the way she looked at him right before she kissed him. Never mind the hurt in her pretty violet eyes when he rejected her. Never mind that beneath all the shock, it stirred something inside of him…

_Good hell, _Piccolo berated himself heatedly. _She's just a baby. Knock it off._

Granted, a baby who had taken to him for whatever reason, and he couldn't deny that schooling her with Dende and Mr. Popo the past month made him feel..._something_. But running off like he did, and then staying away for so long… _Damn Vegeta and his stupid guffaws_. She probably thought he'd abandoned her outright.

_Typical, Piccolo,_ he thought in self-deprecation. _One awkward incident and you run away like a coward. _That was no way to nurture.

With one last, deep inhalation, Piccolo opened his eyes and shot off in the direction of the Lookout, hoping that by the time he got there he'd have an idea as to what to say.

Not that she knew enough language to understand…

* * *

. 

He knew Justice was in one of the upper rooms of the palace when he touched down. He sensed her. Dende and Mr. Popo were nowhere to be found, which was highly unusual. As though they'd taken off when they saw him coming.

Manning up, he walked the stairwell and veered off onto the higher level. When he turned the corner, she was sitting on the floor already looking at him. The sight of her took his breath away.

Someone had taken the time to braid back her ivory mane, yet little rebellious wisps had escaped to frame her heart-shaped face. She stood to her feet, and he noticed how the sapphire blue of the dress she wore offset the opalescent hues of her skin, and flattered her figure in a very non-child-like manner.

Something was different about her. She was captivating to look at, but then again, she was captivating before. He couldn't pinpoint the change until she spoke.

"I missed you, Piccolo," she said, bouncing on her heels with her hands clasped behind her back as though to keep from tackling him in a hug.

He blinked. "You…missed me?" _You're speaking? In full sentences! _

She nodded shyly, and sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth. "I was in the Hyperbolic T-Time chamber for a year. They t-t-" a brief frown fluttered across her face as she tried spit the consonant out. "…_taught_ me."

"How to speak…" he finished, trying to grasp the concept that it had been a full year since she saw him last.

She nodded jerkily. "And other st-stuff…"

"Who?" he asked, feeling a tad guilty that such an abrupt decision was no doubt in reaction to his freaked out departure after she'd jumped him at Capsule Corp.

"Mr. Popo, mainly. Axle also t-taught me, b-but she only stayed a day."

The news was so startling, and it was so strange to be having a linguistic conversation with her that he almost forgot to feel uncomfortable in her presence.

Her brows suddenly furrowed in the center and she looked down at her feet. "I'm sorry for what I did, Piccolo." Her cheeks colored, and she glanced up through her loose bangs.

It took him a moment to realize what she was referring to, and he wanted to smack himself for not apologizing first. "You didn't know," he explained awkwardly. "Besides, I shouldn't have run off like that. It caught me off guard. You were…confused."

That made her more at ease and the corners of her lips turned up in an apologetic smile. "Well, th-thanks to Axle, I'm not confused anymore."

A tinge in Piccolo's chest made his throat constrict ever so slightly right then. She already had nurturing and language. What if she didn't need him anymore? What if she was all ready to be independent, and he hadn't even been there when she needed him? _Probably for the better, _he tried to convince himself. _I didn't need to be tied down, babysit_

"I love you. I wanted you to f-feel that."

He blinked. _…what? _

"But I'll be more t-t-tactful. As long as you don't leave."

"You…" he choked, suddenly aggravated with the liberties Axle had taken in forming Justice's impressionable young mind. "You don't love me, kid. Axle was feeding you fairytales. You don't know me. I'm not the lovable type."

He hadn't realized how harsh his words were until they left his mouth, but surprisingly, she laughed at him, as though he were the ignorant one here, not her. "Piccolo," she shook her head. "I _do_ know you. I can see your heart. And that is enough," she said with complete confidence.

Then he realized that she was right. It was part of Justice's instincts. She could read people, and see them for what they were. How else could she decipher the evil ones from the good? Maybe he wasn't such a beast after all, but… _Agh…_ It both flattered and freaked him out.

This was weird. Too damn weird. He was going to pretend she didn't just say that. "Let's just forget about the whole incident, and go…go…"

"We can go watch Sp-Spanish soap operas!" she cried and clapped her hands in excitement.

"Uh…"

"Just k-kidding!" she giggled.

Piccolo exhaled relief. "What. They taught you how to joke around, too?"

She nodded and he couldn't stop a smirk from broadening his face. "Why do I get the feeling that you're going to be even more high maintenance now than you were before?"

"High…mane..teh…what?"

"Never mind." He jerked his chin towards the door, and made to leave. "How would you like to see some of earth's natural elements at their best?"

He got the impression she didn't know what elements were, but it didn't stop her from nearly barreling into him in her enthusiasm.

"Yes yes yes!"

"Alright then, but you'd better behave," he remarked casually as she skipped past him, dropping to the lower level without even using the stairs. _Behave…_ the word echoed in his head as he watched her lithe, animated form exit the palace on her toes. _Forget about behaving, Justice_ he sent silently. _I think I like your spirited personality just the way it is._

Three contented words unexpectedly trailed back to him, making him both blush furiously and curse Mr. Popo for teaching her telepathy.

_I know, Piccolo…_

* * *

. 

**THREE MONTHS LATER**

"I'm here, I'm here!" Axle said, noticing for the umpteenth time as she threw her briefcase down that it was much more awkward to carry around than a gun. Their recently-purchased, two-story home was far off in the countryside, as the city made Nail feel claustrophobic. But the commute, even via flight tended to take longer than she allowed, and she was often late getting home.

"Nail?"

She gasped as he materialized behind her, wrapping his long, heavy arms around her waist. "You're late," he purred, his breath tickling her ear.

The hair follicles on her arms rose immediately, and it suddenly took a great effort not to stammer. "They're not here yet, are they?" she asked, her eyelids fluttering as he started nuzzling her neck.

"No," he breathed, "But they'll arrive any minute."

"Then I'm on time."

"Un-uh," he insisted, tightening his grip, "I was counting on your being here a little sooner."

She blushed at his newfound audacity. "You're insatiable."

"Only for you."

"You have me," she laughed. "All the time!"

He spun her around, his eyes both playful and fevered. "I know, but you're the only excess I allow myself."

She rolled her eyes. "Excess? Hn. And you call yourself disciplined…"

She suddenly found herself flat on the floor with all of Nail's randy weight atop her. "Overindulgence wasn't in my nature until we were sealed, if you'll remember," he said as he pinned her hands above her head and trailed little bites along the curve of her jaw.

"Ah, I see," she managed, her earlier reservations about what state their friends would find them in, dissipating in the heat of his advances. "It's all my fault then."

"It is," he said. "That's why you have to suffer the consequences."

"Oh, hell."

He kissed her full on the mouth. But before things could progress too far, the light thud of footsteps sounded on the patio outside, followed by a heavy knock at the door.

He growled a quick, frustrated protest, and rolled off, picking Axle up and setting her on her feet. She straightened her clothes and wiped the disheveled hair strands from her face.

With a final, promising glance over his shoulder, Nail opened the door. Standing awkwardly in its entire frame was Piccolo, with Justice holding onto his arm. He smiled, and Axle gawked.

_Piccolo? Smiling?_

Nail motioned for them to enter, and they did so. Axle noticed that they were both attired in white, and it again impressed her that they'd make a really good couple if Piccolo could ever get over himself enough to initiate something.

It's not like Justice would say 'no'.

"So what's so important that you flew over a quarter of the globe to tell us in person?" Axle asked.

Piccolo's cheeks colored, and he looked down at Justice, who had an ear-splitting grin on her pretty face.

"We're sealed. Just like you," she blurted out.

The words slowly digested in Axle's brain as she looked at the two. Justice's hand traced down Piccolo's arm to intertwine her fingers in his…

And he let her.

Axle blinked. _You've got to be kidding me…_ Nail expressed her reaction, and none to subtly…

"WHAT!"

"Sealed," Justice affirmed again, obviously enjoying their stunned reaction.

Axle found her voice. "Sealed? No warm up? No courting? No…" she stopped at a loss for words. "When!"

"Last night."

"But…how?" Axle asked.

Piccolo's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "We came to _tell_ you, not to spell it out."

"Un-uh. _This_ I've got to hear," Axle said as she stepped forward and yanked Justice out of Piccolo's grasp. "Why don't you two tenderlings go spar while I tap this female for information."

Piccolo reached out to reclaim her, a protest on his lips. But Nail, wide-eyed and smiling batted his arm down and jerked his head directionally towards the door.

"Come, brother," he said good naturedly. "It's not like you could stop them, anyhow. At least this way you don't have to watch while she embarrasses you."

Piccolo frowned, but his eyes were smiling. "Fine," he huffed, trying unsuccessfully to project his usual aggravation. "I'll give you fifteen minutes. Nothing more."

"Get going," Axle shoed them both out, and closed the door behind them, turning to give Justice a hopelessly intrigued stare. "Alright kid. First, water, then details."

Justice laughed and sat down on the sofa as Axle prepared two giant glasses of ice water. "It's r-right, Axle. Us. Together."

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Axle said as she came over, handed her a mug and plopped down next to her. If the dragonspawn of justice said something was right, then it was right. But Axle was hungry for a little more than a declaration of the validity of the decision. "Well?"

"Well," she began innocently, "he kissed me."

Axle choked on her water. "HE initiated it?"

Justice frowned at her word choice. "In-eeeshee"

"He started it?" Axle clarified.

Justice nodded vigorously. "I think it was an accident."

"Is that right…"

She smiled. "We were flying over the ocean during a st-storm," she said, her opalescent visage alit with a child-like giddiness. "And I took his hat off-"

"His turban."

"His _turban_ off, and he w-wanted it back," then her eyes narrowed, and Axle thought she'd never seen such a mischievous expression on Justice's sweet face. "But I didn't want to give it back."

She laughed. It was the classic game of keep away. "He went after you, I take it?"

Justice nodded. "I wasn't p-paying attention to where I was going, and didn't see a giant w-wave until it was nearly…on top of me. That's when I felt him grab m-me." Axle noted with some amusement that Justice blushed green, not purple. Keeping the observation to herself she nodded, encouraging the girl to continue.

"Then, I was above the w-water and the wave crashed b-below. He was still holding me, and I looked up and he was st-staring at me, like…like _this_," her lids half-dropped and her mouth parted in an obvious expression of stupefied sensuality.

Axle laughed outright. "You're killing me!"

Justice frowned. "No. I'm telling you what happened-"

"Gah! It was a figure of speech!" Axle chuckled. "Go on."

After a moment, Justice shrugged…a gesture Axle had taught her. "We were really really close, and he wouldn't let g-go, like he forgot. I told him it wouldn't have m-mattered if the wave hit me because I was…already w-wet.

"And?"

"Then he blinked, and his eyes crinkled. He said, 'I know', and then he kissed me."

"Just like that, eh?"

"Yes. Just like…that."

Axle reached over and gave the girl a hug. Justice's grin was contagious and she found herself beaming right along with her. "And then Mr. Popo sealed you?"

She nodded again, and downed the entire glass of water in one swig. "I w-waited. Like you told me to, for him to 'c-come around'."

"Yes, you did. I just hadn't expected it to be so…abrupt."

"Abru..pt?"

"Never mind," Axle mused and sat back in the corner of the sofa shaking her head. "Congratulations, my friend," she said. And then she considered her own happy circumstance, and the long road of strife she took to get there.

_Congratulations to us both,_ she mused silently, wondering if destiny had more to do with both landing her in Nail's arms _and_ her mother's line of work, than coincidence. Axle blinked the sting away from her eyes, as an old, familiar face touched her awareness.

_Grandfather,_ she thought as she looked heavenward and smiled, _I'll make you proud of me, yet._

* * *

. 

**SOMEWHERE IN THE NEXT DIMENSION…**

The Supreme Kai felt two hands, and one very large finger lift off of him. He exhaled and turned to face the small grouping he had gathered.

One stood, biting his lower lip in between his fangs, his eyes shimmering... "That was kind of you to show us," he said, his tone raw with emotion. "I never stopped being proud of her, you know," he continued on. "My Axle… She has such an unconquerable spirit."

"That, she does, Etrack," The Supreme Kai agreed. "And the universe will be better off with her in it, as it was with you."

Etrack swallowed and straightened respectfully. "Thank you."

The Supreme Kai turned to the namekian next to him - one who stood stoic and proud, with all the humble dignity of a great leader. A small smile curling his thin, green lips. "I can't tell you how contented it makes me to know that my grandchild has not only found peace, but felicity also. The obstacles he had to overcome with his inherited identity were almost insurmountable."

The Supreme Kai smiled warmly. "Piccolo has done well, Katatsu. Your legacy of greatness continues in him."

Katatsu nodded mutely, words apparently unable to express his gratitude and relief. Then he turned to pat a much larger namekian on the forearm - a giant of a creature preserved not in the decrepit state in which he died, but rather in the prime of his youth, as notable and impressive as the eternal dragon he created. Yet for all his mass and stature, he couldn't stop the blubbering tears from rolling down his emerald cheeks.

"Are you sure you don't want to speak to your alpha son, Guru?" Katatsu asked.

Guru smiled through the water in his eyes and peered down at a small, pleasant looking female leaning against his thigh. "Do you think I should, Rin?"

His sister smiled ruefully up at him. "It is your decision, brother," she said. "Nail _is_ happy."

Guru pursed his lips and locked stares with the Supreme Kai. "His happiness is enough for me, good friend. I can't tell you how much it means to me that you've allowed us to see them."

The Supreme Kai's eyes slanted in a smile. "I think I have an idea," he said quietly…knowingly. "Your children have found peace."

They all seemed to exhale simultaneously.

"So," The Kai continued in a tone of good-natured reproach, "you have each earned your station here. Now stop worrying about them and enjoy it!"

* * *

__

Thanks for reading...


End file.
